


Demons

by BuckinghamAlice, lightsparkwatchboom



Series: The Dark'n'Bossy/BigBlueSky Role-Play Archive [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, In Which Our Readers Find Out We Don't Actually Know What We're Doing, RP Blog Archive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-07 15:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsparkwatchboom/pseuds/lightsparkwatchboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Diana shows up looking for a missing Amazon from the Saharan colony, things start to point to the one part of Bruce's life he wished he could forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is Part 5 of the Dark'n'Boss/BigBlueSky role-play you can find under the 'dab bbs rp' tag on tumblr. Watch as we make fools of ourselves on a daily basis!

He never knew how much he had appreciated having Clark in his life until the man was gone. It wasn’t until the past few weeks that they had even really been working together, though it felt like it had been much longer. It had been nice, he thought. Even when they argued, it had been nice to know there was someone like him, someone who dedicated his time to the overall good the way he did, that he could talk to.

And wasn’t that just the sorriest excuse for a cliche? Bruce hated thinking about it. Maybe when he was younger, maybe when he was just starting out would he expect himself to think that. But it had been years now — two and a half to be exact. Two years of fighting crime and telling himself never to get attached, and it took less than half a year for Clark to show up and ruin it.

Sighing, Bruce looked up at the time. Barbara had no luck in finding Bridget last night. She went straight home, and presumably, straight to bed. Now, at 10 am, he thought it might be best for him to sleep, too.

His finger hovered over the enter key. One press, and the cliff side door would be reset. The communicator Bruce had given Clark wouldn’t work on it anymore.

Bruce left it alone and went upstairs. It wasn’t like Clark would even come back, anyways.

===

It was strange to think that he and Bruce had become friends as soon as Clark had stopped holding out hope that there could be more.  And then, for one shining moment, it had finally felt like he and Bruce were… 

But it wasn’t going to be that way and he had to accept it now, for sure.

When he woke up in the morning after a fitful sleep, he thought about how Bruce must have such a big, comfortable bed… and at that moment, the two of them might have been wrapped around one another in the center of it, naked under a single sheet because Clark could have kept Bruce warmer than any blanket.  They’d have woken up and had coffee together, and maybe eggs on toast, and he would have kissed Bruce and held his hand before he left and promised to return that evening.

He thought about not going to work… but if he called in sick, Lois would come visit him on her lunch hour and she’d see he was just sulking.  No, couldn’t have that.

He kept the communicator on him.  He couldn’t just leave it behind, though surely he wouldn’t be able to get back into the Batcave… and Bruce wouldn’t answer him if he called.  It had felt like something he had earned… a token of a friendship that had actually meant a lot to him, attraction aside.  

A friendship that he’d managed to screw up and didn’t know how to repair.

===

It would’ve been easier if he could go into the office, he figured. He went through his emails and voicemails rather quickly, and whatever exercise he could do, all the damage to his body considered. It would be another three to five weeks before he was fully recovered, but the night before Bruce Wayne was due back, Batman was pulling the cowl over his.

"You can’t be serious," Barbara said.

"I am serious. That  _Catwoman_  is making a mockery of your father. I’m going after her.”

"What if she hits you in the ribs, huh? What if she breaks them so bad you puncture your lung?"

“ _She won’t_.”

Barbara gaped at him as he went for the Batmobile. She looked at Alfred, desperate for an explanation, but he only shrugged and sighed.

"He will not die of old age, Miss Gordon," Alfred said. "That is all I can tell you."

&&&

Selina didn’t pick the name “Catwoman,” but once she heard the rumors, she decided to adopt the title anyways. Now she wished she had gone with “Houdini.”

"Selina Kyle," Batman said calmly, and yeah, it was no fair that he knew her name  _and_  could sound so attractive despite having such a guttural voice. What’s more, she was strung upside by lines that felt like they were made of steel, he had taken her whip from her about three blocks back, and with one swift pluck of his hands, the jade pendent snapped off her neck.

"Mrow," Selina purred. He looked ever better up close.

Batman narrowed his eyes behind the cowl. “I know your hands are free.”

Selina pulled them out of their bonds. “So they are. Still working on my feet though, so if you could just come here and give me—”

Batman grabbed her wrists and twisted right to the brink of breaking them.

"Ow! Jesus, Batman! It was barely worth two hundred dollars!"

"Don’t move."

Selina fell silent under his glare, and then the world fell down around her. She gasped as her feet, still tangled in the steel rope, clunked to the ground, but was held upright by Batman’s grip.

"Gee, thanks," Selina said. "Now let me go, you’re hurting me."

That seemed to have jarred something inside the Batman. He didn’t let her go, but he cuffed her and held onto those instead of her wrists.

 _Well_ , Selina thought, watching the squad cars pull up behind him.  _At least he doesn’t use bat-shaped handcuffs_.

&&&

The headline of Catwoman’s capture hit the newspaper, right along with a blurb about Bruce Wayne’s safe return. Bruce waited until he was sure Perry was at work before placing a call from his own Wayne Enterprises office.

"Hi, Perry," Brucie said. "Mind if I call you Perry? I wanted to talk to you about something I wanna try for the  _Daily Planet_ …”

===

"Must be nice," Lois commented dryly.

Clark looked up from the stack of notes on his desk and cocked an eyebrow in his friend’s direction.  She was standing beside her desk, flipping through the digital edition of the Gotham Gazette on her tablet and making a tsking sound at whatever she was reading.

"What must be?" Clark asked.

"Bruce Wayne is back in Gotham after getting himself banging up on his last skiing vacation," Lois replied, turning the screen Clark’s way.  "I tell you, that guy has some life.  I swear, he’s the original reckless playboy, and the whole city is just supposed to celebrate his homecoming like he’s some big hero or something."

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," Clark found himself saying.

Now Lois raised an eyebrow and regarded Clark critically.  ”Smallville, what’s with you?  You say things like that and you’re going to lend support to my theory that the two of you were… you know.”

Clark sat up a little bit straighter and felt himself blush a little bit.  ”I told you that was ridiculous,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound or look as guilty as he felt.

"I still say you dodged a bullet," Lois said.  "He never could have deserved you."  Clark felt annoyance, maybe even anger, bubbling within him because Lois was so wrong about Bruce… and because Bruce was the last thing he wanted to talk about, after the way things had ended.  

Luckily, before he could snap at Lois like he felt he was going to, Perry came out of his office and told everyone to gather around.  ”Have an announcement here,” he said in his gruff way.  ”We’re going to be starting a new feature.  A daily serial — a fiction piece.  We’re gonna run it with the comics, that spot where we have the word jumble right now.  Sudoku is the future and it takes less space.  If any of you are interested, come see me about submitting a sample piece… but nothing too long and fluffy.  I don’t have time to read a whole bunch of letters to your aunts and grannies!  Now, all of you quit your lollygagging and get back to making news!”  With that, he turned and left.

Clark was already thinking about what sort of piece he might submit when Lois said, “Hey, Smallville… you going out for this thing?”

Clark smiled.  ”Is this the part where I say yes and you say I shouldn’t bother because  _you’re_ submitting a piece and I wouldn’t stand a chance?”

"I was actually going to encourage you," Lois said with a smirk,  "I’m over all that fiction nonsense… but this sounds perfect for you."

Clark smiled and nodded.  ”I think you’re right.”

===

Bruce was sitting in his living room, drowning out the noise of the outside world with his typing when he received the call.

 _Miranda_ , the caller ID said. It had a picture of her grinning. He let it ring twice, wishing that it wasn’t.

"Hello," he said, with that sort of mock cheer in the background.

Miranda hesitated. “Hi,” she replied.

Silence stretched between them.

"So, you’re back in the states," she ventured.

"I am."

"You didn’t call me. I had wondered if you even left at all, to be honest."

Bruce didn’t reply.

For a while, he thought that was going to be it. He thought that she would hang up, and he would put his phone down, and both of them would live their lives as if the words that weren’t said had been. He didn’t love her, he wasn’t going to be heartbroken over this. But he feared them all the same.

He wondered how he might have reacted, if this were Clark on the other end, and not her. He tried to convince himself he had been saved from a lot of long-term pain.

"Can I get my shirts back?" Miranda asked.

Bruce let out a breath. “Sure. I’ll have them delivered.”

&&&

"Master Bruce." Alfred brought the breakfast plate over from the back area of the kitchen, setting it on the counter in front of him. Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a single ticket to Metropolis, first class. "You leave in forty-five minutes. I’ll have your car and bags ready."

Bruce sighed, setting the  _Daily Planet_  aside. He couldn’t avoid it forever. It was time for Bruce Wayne to tour his company’s latest acquisition.

===

Clark had had a busy morning.  He had to stop a bank robbery, dash out to Wyoming to help at a collapsed coal mine, and pay his regular visit to the pediatrics unit of Metropolis General, all before having to explain to Jimmy and Ron that he was breaking yet another lunch date because he had to sit at his desk and catch up on work.

He had actually only been sitting at his desk for a few minutes when Perry came into the bullpen and said, “Alright, people, look alive.  The new owner — that Bruce Wayne kid — is coming in here in a little while for the grand tour and to show off his expensive shoes.  You all better look useful.”

Clark bit his lip and stared at the computer screen in front of him.  ”God,” Lois began, snapping him back to reality, “This is going to be awkward.”  And she had no idea.

Wordlessly he slid out of his desk chair and went to the men’s room to splash his face with cold water.  He could leave.  He could fly away and not have to deal with this, today or ever.  If Bruce looked at him at all, it would be with pity in his eyes, or maybe disgust.

Clark was not looking forward to it.

===

This time, Alfred was with him.

"And who will manage the estate?" Bruce had asked, for the first time feeling something akin to amusement.

"The estate can bloody well manage itself," Alfred had replied. "I was being serious when I told you I didn’t like you coming back to this city. Two of your top five worst wounds have come from Metropolis."

A quiet smile crept into the corners of Bruce’s mouth. “I have a top five now?”

"Yes, you do. I’ve been keeping track these past couple of years." The car came to a stop. "Here we are. A lady from the HR department will be giving you the tour."

Bruce stared out at the building. He could map six different ways to climb it, but it was still impossibly large before him.

"Ah, Master Bruce?"

"Hm?" Bruce turned back to Alfred. "What is it?"

"If you see Cl— Mr. Kent," Alfred began. Bruce felt a lump form in his throat, and he swallowed it down. "If you see Mr. Kent, do give him my regards."

He nodded. “Sure, Alfred. I’ll let him know you miss someone actually eating your food.”

Alfred smiled a bit at that, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

&&&

Her name was Rosa, she was 54 years old, she had two kids and three grandkids, and everything was “just amazing.”

"This is the bindery," she yelled above the machines. "It’s just amazing. We print over three thousand miles worth of newspaper a day. That’s nearly two million copies on weekdays and about two-point-three on weekends. It’s just amazing what we accomplish on a day-to-day basis."

Bruce had heard enough. His heart was lurching through his chest from all the noise around him. He smiled and played along well enough, but he was all too relieved when she took him back to the elevators and on to the design floors.

He ticked off the numbers in his head like warning bells on an alarm. He was taken to floor after floor, he shook hands with Chief-of-This of Head-of-That.

And then, they arrived.

"Number 34, my favorite floor in the building, to be honest," Rosa cheered. "Here you’ll get to meet our top investigative reporters."

 _And Clark_ , Bruce added mentally.  _He’s a league of his own_.

===

By the time Clark came back from the men’s room, Lois was gone.  He wondered if she was out looking for a story, but he didn’t wonder enough to go looking for her.  Because somewhere between the bathroom sink and his desk he had resolved to be casual and cool and confident and not even care that Bruce was about to stroll through the office like nothing had happened between them.

He heard the elevator doors come open and he thought that it’d probably be Bruce, but when he turned round in his seat, he saw Lois come in with one of the men from the financial department.

He sighed heavily because he could sense it coming before it happened.

Lois paraded the tall, rather thin bearded man with blonde curls and green eyes past Clark’s desk and grinned at him.  ”Clark,” she began.  ”This is Hayden Marx, from financial.  I’ve told him a few things about you and he wanted to meet you.”

Clark forced a smile.  ”Hello, Mr. Marx… nice to meet you.”

He stretched his hand out to Clark and said, “Please, call me Hayden.  And the pleasure is mine.  I’m a big fan yours.  Your writing, I mean.”

"That’s… nice of you to say," Clark said politely.  And he knew  _this_  was rather rude, but he wanted the conversation to be over, so he turned to his computer,

Lois cleared her throat.  ”You know, Clark, I was telling Hayden here how you have that whole collection of Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy films, and you wouldn’t believe what a Tracy and Hepburn fan he is.  I bet the two of you would have a perfect blast if you were to… I don’t know… get together and order a pizza and watch those movies at your place tonight.”

Clark turned to face Lois and shook his head.  ”I can’t do that.”  Then, turning to Hayden, he said, “I’m sorry… I’m busy.”

Hayden smiled politely.  ”Hey, that’s fine.  But I could… give you my number and maybe we could get together sometime when you’re free?”

Clark looked down at his desk.  Hayden was nice and handsome and probably well-adjusted.  He seemed to have some nice qualities… but he… he wasn’t Bruce.  Clark smiled up at the blond and said, “Actually, yeah.  I’d like that.  I’ll call you soon.”  Hayden grinned and wrote down his number before he had to run off and get back to his desk on the 12th floor.

Lois smiled at him.  ”You’re welcome.”

Clark sighed.  ”I love you and appreciate you worrying about me and my love life, but don’t ever put me on the spot like that again.”

"Yeah, yeah," Lois said dismissively.  "You took his number fast enough.  And who could blame you?  If he swung my way, I’d be all over him."

"Just my luck that he doesn’t then, isn’t it?" Clark asked sarcastically.  He thought about the blond and wondered if it would be wrong to go out with him when he was thinking about… someone else.  Probably yes.  But that was… beside the point now.

It was hard to focus on work, because the next time the elevator door opened, the first face Clark saw was Rosa from HR.  And right behind her was Bruce, looking just like he had the last time Clark had seen him in public like this.  He stared at his computer screen and began to type nonsense words just to look busy.  

With any luck, this would be quick and painless.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce couldn’t remember ever wanting someone to decide to rob a bank, but right now, he was practically begging for it.

"Mr. White, it’s nice to finally meet you in person!" Brucie beamed bright and spoke loud, and his presence all but took up the room. He shook Perry’s hand vigorously. "I’m anxious to see who gets picked for the new segment. Any words when the submissions will all be in?"

"Erm, we’re giving it a month to get some good stuff," Perry replied. "So, whaddya think of the building? Noisy in the bindery, isn’t it?"

"Like a circus," Bruce replied.

Perry nodded. “Anyways, this is my ship, these are my crew—” he gestured to the room “—and there’s Lois, looking sad and dejected all by herself.”

Lois looked up from the printer, eyes flaring wide when she realized what was happening.

"Really, Mr. White, I don’t think—" Bruce tried to say, but Perry was still going.

"I’m sure she’d  _love_  to give you the rounds and introduce you to everyone. Hey Lois, come on over here, shake hands with our new owner.” 

Bruce sighed internally. Apparently, Perry didn’t listen to the rumor mill.

Lois paused open-mouthed as though to object. Then she snapped her jaw shut, tilted her head with a smile that barely covered her disgust, and strode over one step at a time, each clack of her heels against the floor a tempest of anger and resentment. “Lois Lane,” she bit out. “Have you met my partner,  _Clark Kent_?”

===

Clark’s eyes were wide.  What the hell was she doing?

Lois looked back to Bruce and said, “Well?   _Have_  you two met?  I forget.  But Clark here is just the sort of young, up and coming reporter someone like  _you_  would want to keep his eye on.”

Perry walked away, having done his duty to the new owner (his least favorite part of the job).  Lois watched until he was back in his office and kept the chilly smile in place.  Her violet eyes flashed as she added, “You know, I believe I remember now.  You two have met.  We three shared a lovely evening together in Gotham once.  Do you remember that, Clark?”

Clark blushed and tried not to look up.  He didn’t want to see Bruce at all if it was going to be like this.  Lois could be like a junkyard dog sometimes, snarling and jumping at the fence as if to bite anyone that came too close… and right now, she was practically standing in front of him, growling protectively.

"Lois, please," he said softly.

===

Bruce had to fight to keep the glower off his face. “Uh, I do,” he said, pushing his smile as far as it would go. It kept falling whenever he stopped thinking about it. “And yes, it was a lovely evening. The company made it worthwhile.” He nodded at Lois, then turned to Rosa.

"We have more areas to get to, don’t we?"

Rosa looked like she had been staring off into space, the way she snapped back to reality. “Oh, no, not too many. In fact, why don’t I let Lois show you area this floor. I just need to…” She left. More accurately, she made a bee line for the bathroom.

 _Just amazing_ , Bruce thought.

===

Clark chanced a look up at Bruce’s face and saw that fake grin take over his face.  He sighed to himself.

"Well," Lois continued, "I’m sure you don’t need  _me_  to babysit you.  Here we have me, Clark, Cat, Jimmy, Steve, and Ron.  You saw the printer, and there’s the Keurig coffee maker.”  She pointed to everything she mentioned, still standing in one spot.  ”Now, anything else you’d like to see, you can show it to yourself.  Act like you own the place, since you do.  You’re good at that.  If you’ll excuse me…”

Clark had to wonder now how much of that was about him and what part of it was about the fact that things hadn’t gone well with the two of them.  But he didn’t really have the time to concern himself too much… because right now, his eyes were focused on the index card on his desk with Hayden’s phone number on it.  He was debating whether or not he should try to hide it, and likely end up looking as guilty as he felt.

But instead, his mind reeled back a few moments, and before he could stop himself, he realized he was asking, “Wait, did I hear you ask Perry about the new segment?   _You’re_  behind that _brilliant_  idea of Perry’s?”

===

He had to look now. He had been so careful about keeping his eyes away, but there was no choice now. It seemed as thought he had very little choice in what he could do these days.

"Ye—" Bruce stared at the card.  _Hayden_ , followed by seven digits, plus the area code. It felt like a punch to the gut from Dr. Fries himself. “Yes,” he recovered. “Most people use the Internet for news these days. The website is already getting a makeover to reflect that. As for print, I just thought that…”  _That you might appreciate the opportunity, that you might enjoy seeing your dreams realized in some small way._  “…That there needed to be more. We’ll see how it goes.” He nodded to the card. “Enjoy your date. Tell Rosa I had to leave.”

Bruce beat a hasty retreat, skipping the elevator and going for the stairs. He could use the extra time to himself. Mostly he used it to do a background search on Hayden.

===

 _Enjoy your date._   The words practically rang in his ear, like the whining siren of an ambulance or something.

Clark felt like the biggest fool in the world.  Why had he left that card sitting there?  Did he subconsciously want Bruce to see, hoping for a reaction?  And if that was the case, why was he surprised by that reaction?  Bruce had walked away… why should he care what Clark did and who he did it with?  Was he, without even realizing it, trying to make Bruce jealous?  Or was he just plain stupid?

Probably the last thing… he  _felt_  pretty stupid.

But one thing was certain — he’d scared Bruce away again.

He hadn’t even realized it, but he had watched Bruce walk away and was still staring at the door to the stairwell.  He picked up the card with Hayden’s number on it and contemplated throwing it away… but the damage was done now.

"Well, that was more awkward for the two of you than anything else," Lois commented.  "And I was the one who he dumped."

"I thought you said you dumped him," Clark said, eyebrow raised.

Lois hesitated for a moment.  ”Well, it doesn’t matter who dumped whom… it just…  _ended_  and that’s all that matters.  But wow… you know, he seemed a little jealous when he saw Hayden’s number sitting there.  Good move leaving it out like that.  ’Enjoy your date.’  Hoo, boy!  You see that you do, now that you have the boss’s blessing.”  She laughed lightly.

Clark felt a little bit sick for a moment.  ”You know, he just  _assumed_  I had a date.  This number could have been a friend or a relative… a co-worker, contact for a story… my accountant.  Anything.”

"But it’s not," Lois replied, one immaculately groomed brow raised as high as it would go.  "It  _is_  a date.  And what do you care if he knows?  It’s none of his business.”

Clark nodded and turned back to his work because he desperately wanted the conversation to be over.  He could never tell Lois why it felt like a dozen little knives were stabbing him or he had swallowed a handful of fire ants.  

He could still catch Bruce, tell him that he didn’t care about Miranda or Hayden or anything that could possibly keep them apart.  They could kiss in the stairwell and go back to his place… but that couldn’t happen now.  It was really over before it even got started.  He’d screwed up everything… again.  It must have been another superpower because he had gotten so good at it lately.

===

Bruce paused with one foot halfway in the lobby.  _Damn_ , he thought. He forgot to tell Clark that Alfred said hello. For half a second he imagined coming up with an excuse to run back up there and say it, and he imagined that somehow— that they would—

Bruce closed his eyes and tried to ignore the hole in his heart. It felt like it was simultaneously bleeding and sucking away everything that he was. “Alfred sends his regards,” he muttered as he went on. Clark probably wasn’t listening, but it made him feel better. It was definitely easier than saying anything to the man’s face.

And then, though he wasn’t quite sure why he let the words tumble out of his mouth, he added, “Watch out for Hayden’s driving.”

&&&

When Barbara worked at the library, she walked to her entrance to the ‘Cave. Otherwise she took her motorcycle.

"Leave it here," Bruce said. It was slow in the city. They had been sparring for most of the night.

"Why? Gonna trick it out with some Bat toys?" She stretched to her toes.

Of course Bruce was going to, that’s why he didn’t feel the need to respond. Barbara didn’t see it that way, though. She raised her eyebrows and mouthed “okay” like she had just been sarcastically blown off.

He was happy when she decided to head head and continue working on her Oracle system.

Bruce liked it when he was alone. He wouldn’t go so far as to call himself a complete introvert, contrary to what Alfred would have anyone believe, because he still liked being around people. Well, no, he didn’t like large groups. And he hated noise, really, he did. He hated having one of his senses cut off through over-stimulation like that. Inane chatter was out, too, and really, now that he thought about it, he just liked the company of one or two people, neither of which were here. But if the one was here, if he would just walk through the door and— and put his hand on Bruce’s side, let it warm the bruises and ease them away quicker. If he would just kiss Bruce then maybe, just maybe Bruce could find the words to say how wrong he had been.

He glanced at the cliffside door. Of course, that would be hoping for too much, wouldn’t it?

===

He wasn’t so much listening for Bruce as he was tuning Lois out.  Because she was now going on about Hayden’s fine points — apparently, he graduated at the top of his class from university, collected Lladros, and he had dinner with his mother every Sunday — but Clark didn’t… well, it wouldn’t be entirely fair to say he didn’t care, but… he just wasn’t particularly interested right now.

But he did hear Bruce saying that Alfred had sent his regards… and to watch out for Hayden’s driving.  He felt a pang… he missed Alfred.  He missed being a part of Bruce’s inner circle and being welcome in his home and asked to stay for dinner.

He missed everything about that brief time they had been a part of one another’s lives.

It was time to stop brooding and pouting and pining.  Maybe… maybe it was time to move on.  He picked up the index card with Hayden’s number on it… maybe it was time to take a walk down to the 12th floor.

&&&

They took a cab to a little diner uptown after work that afternoon for coffee and pie.  Dinner would have been too serious, and having Hayden over to his apartment as Lois suggested would be too intimate… but dessert he could handle.  Clark ordered dutch apple pie and Hayden ordered lemon meringue.  He took his coffee decaf.

"So, have you and Lois always been so close?" Hayden asked, kind smile on his face.  

"Not always," Clark answered.  "She didn’t like me very much at all when we first started working together.  I think she’s just now starting to get used to me."

Hayden laughed.  It wasn’t even that funny.  ”Well, she speaks very highly of you.  She’s… dedicated to you.”

Clark nodded.  ”She is.  She speaks highly of you too.”

"That’s the only reason you’re here, isn’t it?" Hayden asked.

Clark raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the question.  ”Well… not the  _only_  reason…”

"It’s okay," Hayden said with a smile.  "She may have mentioned that you’re trying to get over someone.  I just got out of a relationship myself, so I understand."

"She shouldn’t have told you that," Clark said, shaking his head.  "It’s not… the situation was nothing like that."  It was hard to explain, so he wouldn’t try.

"She didn’t tell me any details of what happened with you, but in my case, it was… bad," Hayden said.  "I’d been with this guy for about four years, living together for three of them, and I thought things were perfect.  Then I found out he had been cheating on me for the last six months with his best friend.  Said he didn’t consider it cheating because the best friend was supposedly straight."

Clark gulped.  ”Yeah… those supposedly straight guys are the worst.”

Hayden shrugged.  ”Yeah.”  Then, watching Clark for a moment, he said, “That’s who you’re trying to get over, isn’t it?  You fell for your straight friend.”

Clark furrowed his brow.  That was… “Well, not  _exactly_.  But… something like that, I guess.  It was…”

"Complicated?" Hayden supplied.

"Yeah," Clark said with a nod.  Hayden had no idea.  There wasn’t much conversation over the rest of dessert, and Clark paid when the check came.  They walked out of the diner together and Clark was about to hail a cab, grateful for the knowledge that the two of them lived in opposite directions.

"You know," Hayden began, "The only way for you to really get over this guy is to move on.  Get with someone else and forget him."

Clark nodded.  Because Hayden was probably right… but he wasn’t ready, nor could he pretend he was.  ”This was nice,” Clark said with a sad smile.  ”Thanks for… everything.”

"And thank you… for the pie," Hayden replied.

:”Listen, you take the cab,” Clark said.  ”I think I’m gonna walk.  But I’ll call you soon, okay?”  And he thought he meant it.  Because Hayden  _was_  right… he needed to move on, and this was his chance.  But not today… not when he could still hear Bruce’s voice and still remember the taste of Alfredo sauce in his mouth and still feel the desperate way his hands had roamed Clark’s body.

He almost laughed bitterly as he walked away.  Bruce had told him to enjoy his date… but Clark had spent so much of it thinking about Bruce it was like he had been there, too.


	3. Chapter 3

They heard by news of the eagles.

"Mother, we must do something," she said.

"They will handle their own matters," her mother replied.

“‘Handle their own matters’? Mother, their  _matters_  is what caused this in the first place! Let me reach out to her and—”

"Hush!" She whirled on her daughter, her skirt balled beneath her fists. "Do you think this is a game? Do you think you can use  _this_  to leave us, your family, for this— this  _childish fantasy_  of yours?”

"This is  _not_  a fantasy—”

"Ever since you were a child. Ever since you first found your way off this island you’ve talked of nothing else, and now that everything we are, everything we’ve worked for for hundreds of years is on the brink of exposure, you would use it to see to your own ends! Now you will not leave this island, I forbid it!"

She stared across the expanse of the small summer courtyard, watching her mother retreat inside. She knew she was never going to get permission the same as her mother knew that eventually, this day would come.

In the dark of the moonless night, Diana took her instruments and stepped off the island. There was a missing Amazon from the Sahara colony, rumors of a demon stealing the ancient Lazarus pits, and a child clutching at a sailor’s token, a promise to herself made long ago. She had much to do.

But first, Metropolis.

===

He  _didn’t_  call Hayden soon.  He kept telling himself he  _should_ … but he just  _didn’t_.

No regrets.  Not on that score, at any rate.

&&&

When he first saw her, it was like something out of a movie.  She seemed to come out of the clouds and light bathed her as she moved, like an actual angel or something, but without the wings.

He was standing prepared for anything, all confidence with his hands on his hips and his head high.  

But she landed gently… and when she spoke, he was unprepared to hear her ask, “Are you the one called Superman?”

"I am," he said, nodding.  "And… where are you from?  What do I call you?"

"My name is Diana," she began.  "And I am an Amazon.  I come from Themyscira… to ask for your help."

===

Between completely restructuring Barbara’s motorcycle (buying a new one would have been faster), convincing each and every Board member that buying  _The Daily Planet_  was  _not_  a bad idea (again), and waking up in the clinic of Dr. Leslie Thompkins after a Scarecrow fiasco, Bruce managed to reconstruct the drug the kids had been selling. It was a previously unknown substance, documented only once before by the GCPD, and he wanted to know how it had been made for future reference.

It was based on a steroid, he discovered. In fact, it was barely one step away from being one of the most powerful steroids Bruce had ever encountered.

As soon as he figured that out, the one they called “Mr. Diego” went missing from prison.

Bruce did not believe in coincidences. He examined the crime scene, he saw the details. A slow slew of memories drifted through his mind.

He thought ahead.  _Just in case_ , he told himself, wielding the welder in his ‘Cave. He flipped the helmet down and went to work.

===

"You’re an Amazon but you need  _my_  help?” Clark asked.  She had flown from the sky and she was taller than him and nearly as well-muscled.  He had no reason to question anything she had said beyond needing his help.

"Yes," she said with a nod.  "One of my sisters has gone missing.  And I need help tracking her down.  She is unprepared for life in man’s world, and it is unlikely that she left voluntarily.  If she _has_  been abducted, her colony is in danger… and then  _all_  of my people are in danger as well.”

Clark furrowed his brows.  ”I see.  I want to help you, but…” It wasn’t really his area of expertise.  Tracking a person down was really more detective work… it was more like something Batman would do.  But he… he couldn’t go back, not with his tail between his legs and asking for help again.  But he looked up into the desperate face of this woman, this clearly proud woman, who had come to him for help.  And he knew.  He knew he had to do whatever he could to help her, even if it meant involving Bruce.

"There may be someone else I can take you to," he began.  "Someone that can probably help.  If you’re willing to keep an open mind, that is."

===

Alfred set the final steel cage down on the lab table, joining the other three. “I still think you should have used some of the bats,” he said. “They’re starting to get the run of the place.”

"Stop feeding the cats," Bruce replied. The west side colony, where the bats frequently exited the caves, was beginning to grow.

"Hmph. I think I’ll just leave some fresh poison in the usual spots." He bowed his head and took his leave.

Bruce opened the mouse feed and dropped it in a Petri dish of the steroid drug.

===

"Now, remember, keep an open mind," Clark said as they flew towards Gotham.  "I don’t know what you’ve heard about Batman, if anything, but he operates differently than I do."  He was just warning her.  "He isn’t bad… don’t get that idea."  This wasn’t about praising Bruce.  "I’ve trusted him with my life."

Diana eyed him.  ”If you trust him, Superman, I believe I can trust him as well.”

Clark nodded.  ”Good.  I do trust him.  And you’re right to do the same.”

&&&

Clark took a deep breath as he approached the entrance to the Batcave.  He wondered if Diana noticed.  He had to assume Bruce saw him coming on his monitors, but still… he felt like he was ambushing him.  But there was nothing to be done about it now.

He wasn’t sure if the button on his communicator would still grant him access to the ‘Cave, so he was almost surprised when the door opened for him, just like it used to do.

"Batman," he began, forcing himself to sound self-assured and tall and businesslike.  Because he could put his personal feelings aside long enough to help Diana… to see that Bruce helped Diana.  And with any luck, he could put his feelings away even longer than that.

===

A chime sounded from the computer on his gauntlet. It meant that the cliffside door had been opened. 

Bruce’s heart leapt into his throat.

He flipped the latch up and went straight to the video feed. The lab was sequestered from the rest of the Batcave — a necessary precaution — but even if he had looked up and seen Clark with his own eyes, he probably wouldn’t have believed it. For a moment, everything was perfect.

And then he saw  _her_.

Bruce felt cold dread frost over his chest. He flipped the gauntlet shut, pulled his cowl over his eyes, and calmly walked out into the main area. “What. Do you want,” he said, and his eyes never left the tall warrior that came with him.

Batman started calculating his odds.

===

He hadn’t expected a warm welcome.  He hadn’t expected a friendly hello.  He didn’t know what he expected.  But Bruce’s voice was harsh and his words were harsher, and…

And he had promised himself that he was going to set his personal feelings aside.  He was determined to do it.

"This is Diana of Themiscyra," Clark began.  "She came to me for help, and I’m… I felt you would be more help to her than I would be."

Diana nodded.  ”I see that you are uneasy, Batman.  But I swear to you that this is no ruse.  I mean you and your people no harm.”

===

"My people," Bruce deadpanned. He glanced over at Clark and felt a fresh wave of rage swell inside him, along with an agonizing depression that made him want to puke. This was his  _Cave_. This was his  _sanctum_. Bruce had given Clark access to this place as a sign of friendship and trust, and Clark had betrayed it by bringing in this—

The name of Themiscyra rang a bell. “Amazonian,” he said out loud, just as flat as before. Diana’s eyes widened slightly and he knew he his his mark. He had read about them ages ago, and like most people, he had thought they were just old Greek myths. ”And what does an Amazonian want with me?”

===

"Batman, she—" Clark began, but Diana held her hand up to stop him.

"I don’t need a man to speak for me," Diana said calmly, almost patronizingly.  "Yes, I am an Amazon.  I would not try to hide or deny that.  I came to you… well, I came to Superman because one of my kind has gone missing.  A sister from the Sahara colony.  And I felt it my duty to come find her.  But I cannot do it alone, and Superman speaks highly of you."

Clark felt extremely uncomfortable because Bruce was radiating waves of anger and… betrayal.  He’d not have come here if he had thought it would hurt Bruce.  But… he missed him, and he wanted to work with him.

Maybe he was using Diana as an excuse to come here.

Maybe he hadn’t thought this through very well.

Okay… he definitely hadn’t thought it through.  But… this was just another example of the differences between him and Bruce.  He trusted Diana because she had yet to give him a reason not to.  Bruce didn’t trust her because she had yet to give him a reason to.  He shouldn’t have expected Bruce to be enthusiastic about this or just readily agree.  

But he was here now, and so was Diana.  So they had to try, and he had to hope that Bruce would see the intentions behind his actions.

After all, he usually did.

===

 _Superman speaks highly of you_. Bruce let the words echo in his mind for a moment.

He glanced over at Clark, read the pain in his face. That was wrong. That was wrong on so many levels. Clark was supposed to be mad at  _him_ , not this other way around. Bruce was the one who broke his heart, Bruce was the one who was so messed up he couldn’t keep things straight between them. And yes, Bruce was still mad at Clark for coming into the ‘Cave like this, but why wasn’t Clark angry, too?

 _Dammit_ , Bruce thought. He fought to keep himself from swallowing his apprehension. “Have you been to the Saharan colony? Have you talked to her family, found any clues as to where she could have gone?”

===

Clark breathed a little sigh of relief and felt a bit of tension release.  Bruce was cooperating.  That was the first step.  Now they’d just have to get information from Diana and Bruce would probably start piecing things together quickly.  He looked at her expectantly.  

But she hesitated.  ”Well… Macaria, that’s her name, is said to be an adventurous woman and has longed to leave her home, but it is hard to believe she would just  _go_  like this.  From what I understand, no one has any clue where she might be.”

Clark furrowed his brow.  That wasn’t much to go on.  ”Okay… is that all…  _did_  you go to the Saharan colony?”

Diana frowned.  ”I… did not.”  She bit her lip and blushed just a little.  ”I was eager to come to man’s world and find out for myself… I failed to think logically in my haste.”

Clark sighed.  He was now wishing he had asked her a few more questions before he brought her to Bruce… because she was kinda making him look bad.

===

Bruce let out one large, quick, and incredibly annoyed breath. His shoulders slumped with it. “Go to the Saharan colony, raid her room, find a diary and read it.  _Then_  talk to me, if you have no leads to follow. And Cl—” He stopped with his mouth partially open, then he closed his jaw and frowned briefly. There was so much he wanted to say, sitting right there in the back of his throat. But with Diana standing so close, all that came out was, “ _Superman_ , knock first.”

===

That felt like… well, there were no words.  The closest comparison he could draw was to say it was like in movies and video games when someone would rip a person’s heart out and then show it to them.  Bruce had just shown him his heart.

He was out.  Out of the circle of people Bruce trusted, out of the group of people he’d consider real friends.  

"Of course," he said, voice coming out slightly clipped.  Then, turning to Diana, he added, "We should leave Batman to his work."

But before they left, he walked closer, because he had to.  He took off the communicator and set it down beside Bruce, because it was clear he didn’t want him to have it anymore.  He didn’t have to ask for it back to take it back.  Clark looked at Bruce, looking at his face for just a split second.  ”Thank you for your help,” he said quietly.

===

Bruce was beginning to suspect he had a really awful way with words. A truly, monumentally, stupendously  _awful_  way with words. This was just another instance in a very long line of instances where what he had said to Clark — not just what he  _said_ , but what he  _meant_ — had been completely missed, and he was beginning to think that at this point, it was probably his fault. 

In the split second that it took for Bruce to process this, he looked down at the communicator. His hand shot out and grabbed onto the top of Clark’s.

“ _Clark_ ,” he breathed. He manipulated Clark’s fingers with his own, used his thumb to push the device back into Clark’s palm. His hand curled into a fist, and with it, so did Clark’s.

He let the grip on his thumb linger longer than it needed to. Bruce felt like he could feel so much through the gloves, like they were touching each other skin-on-skin, but all of it was in his head, he knew.

"Knock if you have  _guests_ ,” he appended, and then he wiggled himself free and went back into his lab.

===

Clark had to look down for a minute so he could catch his breath.  In such a quick moment, so many emotions had passed over him — rejection, hurt, maybe a little anger, more hurt, and finally understanding.  But most of all, he went back and forth between the desire to pull his hand away (because Bruce shouldn’t get to touch him when he’d left him on such an emotional roller coaster) and grabbing hold of his hand and not even caring that Diana was right there, and…

But he did care that she was there.  He didn’t know how good an Amazonian’s hearing was, so he didn’t know if she’d caught any of that.

When he looked up, she was giving him an odd look, so he simply said, “Let’s go.”  She raised an eyebrow and nodded but said nothing.  They took off.


	4. Chapter 4

He waited. He heard the door close, and he still waited. One of the rats died from the drugs due to his waiting.

And then Bruce pushed back his cowl and held his head in his hand. He had to go over his formula three times before he decided on what change to make next, and each time his thoughts ended with,  _Why did I even bother_?

===

"Superman, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather use another method of transportation," Diana had said.  "You fly a bit faster than I can… but you are welcome to ride with me."  And now Clark was sitting next to her in her invisible jet.  An actual invisible jet.

"This is possibly the coolest ride I’ve ever been in," Clark said.  He looked over at Diana and added, "Yeah.  Definitely the coolest."

“‘Coolest’ is a compliment?” she asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow. 

Clark grinned.  ”A big one.”

&&&

The site of the Saharan colony was seemingly empty.  Clark didn’t think anything of it, because of what he had read in mythology books, he didn’t expect to be able to see it.  But when Diana couldn’t see it…

"This is a nightmare," she muttered as they got out of the invisible jet.  "I cannot believe…"

"What’s happened?" Clark asked.

She steadied herself and sniffed the air.  ”Magic.  This… this is a banishment spell.  That’s why…. they’re gone.  Or they seem to be.”

"A banishment spell," Clark repeated, brows furrowed.

She nodded.  ”A defense mechanism.  They’ve cast a spell to conceal the entire colony from the rest of the world in their own little self-contained reality.  It’ll last for a hundred years.  All Amazonian colonies have the ability to cast this spell, but they must have been desperate, felt they had no other choice.  Their safety had to be greatly compromised… they wouldn’t have chosen this if hadn’t felt… incredibly threatened.”

Clark nodded somberly.  It was terrible, and he didn’t know what to say.  So he decided to try and be useful.  ”I’m going to fly overhead and see if I can spot anything.  Something to help us figure this out.”  Diana nodded distractedly and began to search around her.  Clark flew high enough to get a good view of the whole area and did a scan and x-rayed, too.

On one side of the island, just below the sand the top layer of stone had been disturbed.  His x-ray vision showed him that there was some sort of structure down there… an encampment.  He told Diana about what he saw and they decided to go together to explore it.

Inside the doorway to the encampment, something golden glinted and caught Diana’s eye.  She bent over to pick it up and furrowed her brows.  ”This is an Amazonian crest.  A pin, I think.”

Clark turned round to look at it, but before he could comment, he heard… something.  Breathing, heartbeats, quiet scuffling.  ”Diana,” he whispered urgently.  ”We’re not alone.”

But they didn’t have more than a couple of seconds warning before they were attacked by at least sixty kamikazes.

"You’re right, Superman," she said drolly.  "We’re not alone."

===

He lost two more of the rats in the hours he spent refining the reaction that would turn the drug into a steroid. One of the rats had its eyes blown out shortly after the injection. It was still alive, weakly limping around the bedding, though it wouldn’t be for long. Bruce pulled out a knife and killed it.

On the fourth and final rat, nothing happened. It ate the drug, it drank the solution of water and catalyst. And then it ran around the perimeter, occasionally darting through the center.

Bruce ran naked hands through his hair. This was not going well. He decided to take a blood sample and see if there was anything going on at all.

As the tests were running, Bruce thought about contacting Clark and seeing if he was having any luck with his own case. He wanted to hear Clark’s voice, he wanted to have a conversation that didn’t involve pouring salt on wounds. He wanted to shake this sinking feeling that something was wrong, that there was something happening he wasn’t aware of.

Bruce frowned and began cleaning up the dead rat cages, though he kept the bodies themselves for further analysis. Clark was probably doing just fine visiting an Amazonian colony.

===

"Stay back," Clark shouted as the kamikazes advanced on them.

Diana gave a hard kick to the chest of the first one to come near her.  ”Please!  I do not need to be protected like some delicate little flower.  I am an Amazon… and I have trained my entire life for battle.”

Clark didn’t argue.  He focused on the men attacking him and used only enough force while Diana fought across from him.  He had disarmed and subdued two men before he heard the first crack, the sickening crunch of bones cracking.  

Diana had just snapped a man’s neck.  He slumped dead at her feet, and Clark was so stunned that he didn’t have time to stop her from doing the same thing to the man beside him.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.  "Are you insane?  We don’t kill,"

"Don’t count me in your ‘we,’" Diana spat.  "I did say I was trained to be a warrior, not someone to sit here and slap an aggressor on the wrist."

Clark roughly yanked Diana back by the shoulder to stop her from killing a third person.  ”Lethal force is not necessary!  Disarm them, fight to protect yourself, but don’t take advantage of your strength and take lives.  That is not your place.”

Diana shoved Clark back even rougher and said, “It is not your place to give me orders, Superman!”  She grabbed another fighter and would have killed him too, had Clark not used his heat vision to burn her hand.

"I will  _not_  let you take lives and do nothing about it,” Clark insisted.  ”You don’t have the right to take another life.”

But before their argument or the fight could continue, one of the fighters shouted an order and the remaining men all shouted something in agreement and bit down on capsules they’s been hiding.  Clark recognized them immediately as cyanide — suicide pills.

There was nothing he could do — it was over for all of them in a matter of moments.

He shuddered, because he hadn’t been able to act.  Because he couldn’t stop sixty people from dying right before his eyes.  Because five dozen corpses littered the floor around him like peanut shells.


	5. Chapter 5

Diana watched Clark from the corner of her eye. She may have been new to the world of man, but the expression in his eyes was nothing she had not seen before.

"I need to tell my mother what has happened here," she said to him. Part of her wanted to offer comfort, part of her wanted to tell him that this was how it had to be some times, but that faded to a murmured thought as she left the bunker. 

She took the crest with her.

===

Clark nodded and didn’t turn to watch Diana go.  He stood rooted to the spot longer than he’d have liked, longer than he realized.

Eventually he left.

That was the first night he had the nightmares.

===

Bruce managed to get three hours of sleep before he was awake and alert. He’d probably try to even get in a nap later, seeing as how he was practically on a roll now. He flipped open his computer and decided to check on the rat.

The rat was dead in its cage, horribly mutated by fast-acting growths all over its body.

Bruce slammed the lid shut and went straight for the ‘Cave. What he found in person was harder to believe. Those weren’t just any growths bursting through the skin, they were muscle. The rat’s very own muscles had expanded faster than the epidermis could keep up with. It had bled to death, though not before gnawing half of a hole right through the steel bars.

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Bruce’s gut. It couldn’t have been, he would have recognized the formula if it was a direct copy of…

 _That doesn’t rule out the connection_. Bruce called Lucius and canceled his two appointments for the day. Then he put his finger to the communicator in his ear.

"Superman."

===

Clark was more than a little distracted, maybe even on edge, when he got the call.  He’d not slept more than two hours all together, and he had been in such a cold sweat that he had to wash his sheets.  But the shower couldn’t get the uncomfortable feeling off of him.  He didn’t know what would do that.

So he was… relieved… to hear from Bruce.  He knew it wasn’t friendship that would have Bruce calling.  It’d be work… and that was good.  With work, he could stay busy.  Sometimes busy was just what he needed.

"What’s going on?" he asked.   _With any luck_ , he thought,  _it’ll be something that requires my immediate attention._

===

Bruce swallowed quickly. Any emotions he had to set aside. Gotham was at stake. “GPS says you’re back in your apartment. Did you find the missing Amazon?”

===

Clark hesitated.  There was no way to say it without making it sound like he had majorly screwed up, which he had.  ”No,” he said.  ”We went to the Saharan colony and… we got ambushed.”  He sighed.

Here comes the lecture, the criticism, everything.  All of which he probably deserved.

===

"Ambushed," Bruce repeated. "Ambushed by who?" One of his machines beeped, signaling it had finished its analysis. "Clark, tell me  _exactly_  what happened.”

===

There was no way to explain exactly what happened without talking about it, was there?

"Well, we went to the colony and found that the whole place was practically  _gone_ ,” he began.  ”Diana said they must have cast a banishment spell because they felt so threatened by the whole thing.  We started to check around, I flew over and saw this… encampment underground.  We went inside and…” He shuddered at the memory.  ”I don’t know.  It was some suicide squad or something.  They fought us and…”  He hesitated again.  ”There were sixty of them and they’re all dead.  Cyanide capsules.”  He left out the part about the ones that Diana killed.  He wasn’t ready to go there.

And… he had seen people die before.  It was never easy, and it always upset him.  Unfortunately, it was a part of the job.  But he’d never seen so many… so needlessly… 

He felt so useless.

"I have no idea who they were," he said, needing to fill the silence he left when his voice had trailed off.  He just hoped more than anything that Bruce couldn’t tell how… sick he felt.  That was the last thing he needed.

===

"Clark…" Bruce stared at the graph in front of him. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going through Clark’s head. He could practically imagine every line of distress, every pained look, as if he had been standing in front of Bruce as he said it.

Didn’t he wonder once before, if Clark had nightmares?

"I know this must be difficult for you," Bruce continued. "But I need you to tell me about the attackers. What were they wearing? Was there anything distinctive about them at all?"

===

"They were dressed in black," he began.  "Most of them had hoods — all except for the main guy.  He was bald and tattooed.  That was the guy that gave the order…" He let his voice trail off.  "It sounded like Arabic… I’m too rusty to have caught most of it.  And there was a symbol on their uniforms… like a crest.  Kind of like, I dunno, a tear drop or something.  I didn’t recognize it."  He thought back, tried to see before the death, for details.  "They were trained really well, moved with a lot of precision and hit with accuracy."

"Diana didn’t know them either," he added.

===

Bruce did not believe in coincidences. Diana’s missing Amazon was either dead or a traitor to her people, and Gotham? Well this just got a whole lot bigger than Gotham.

"Do you know where Diana is? Did she leave any way to communicate with you?"

===

"She went home, as far as I know," Clark said.  "She said she needed to talk to her mother about all of this… and she didn’t leave any way to contact her.  I…"  _Didn’t want to ask any questions._  ”Didn’t think to ask.”  

He rubbed his temple and told himself to snap out of it, and not for the first time.

===

"Then it’s just us." Bruce nodded. He felt like he should have seen it coming, as well as the eerie comfort that came with the comment. He could pretend that they never parted after the Alfredo. He could pretend that it had ended differently, that they were still on good terms. Because that was what he needed to think right now, because if he let  _that_  get in the way, what kind of hero was he?

"The men you fought were from the League of Assassins. The leader you heard was named Ubu, though they all are.  _Ra’s_  ends up needing a new one every time he regenerates.”

===

It probably should have been just the two of them anyways.

Not that that was a particularly helpful thought.

Clark wasn’t surprised, however, that Bruce knew of the group that had attacked them.  He furrowed his brow.  ”Ra’s al Ghul?” he asked.  He’d heard of him before, heard the rumors at any rate.

===

"Yes, though if you know the name, I’m surprised you didn’t recognize the marks. He’s not a public figured," Bruce said. He cleared his throat. "Listen, if Ra’s attacked that colony, we need to get to Diana. We need to find out what they had that was so valuable to Ra’s, and we need to stop him before he does whatever he’s planning to do. Because Clark? I can guarantee you, we’d be lucky if he were only aiming for Metropolis or Gotham."

===

"I wish you weren’t right about that," Clark said.  "Now,  _I_  don’t know how to find Diana.  I don’t suppose you had time to…?”  He let the question trail off because he had the feeling he didn’t need to finish it.  It was a good feeling.

===

"Don’t be ridiculous, she was no where near me." He smirked. "I did, however, pick up the invisible jet following her around like a well-trained puppy."  _I want one_.

===

"Since you’re so on top of things, you probably know I rode in it with her," Clark said with a little smile.  "Coolest thing ever."

===

Bruce made an appreciative hum, short and sweet. He’d love to take a look at the jet and figure out just how, exactly, the refractive panels worked so well. If he could only make a suit out of it…

But that would have to wait. “She’s in the Mediterranean. I can give you coordinates, can you work with those?”

===

"Yeah, I should," Clark replied.

===

"Good." Bruce relayed the degrees, minutes, and seconds. "It might be obscured by ‘unseen forces,’ as the legend goes. When you find it, don’t try making an entrance. Just try to get Diana’s attention off shore."

===

"Right," Clark replied with a nod.  "Thanks."  He hesitated a moment.  There was so much he’d have liked to say, but none of it was really appropriate right now.  As much as it mattered to  _him_ , it wasn’t terribly important in the grand scheme of themes.

But still…

"Well, I’ll head out there then," he said.   _I hope I see you again._   ”Bye, Bruce.”   _I really hope I get to see you again._

===

 _Bruce_. He’d never thought hearing his own name would make him happy. It was probably the fact that it was Clark saying it, even all things considered. “Take care,” he replied, and his disconnected the line.

===

Clark took off right away.  He flew off to Themiscyra using the coordinates Bruce provided.  He’d read enough to know that he probably would not be entirely welcome there, so he did what Bruce advised and came down just off shore and hoped he’d catch Diana’s attention before anyone else’s

===

What Clark forgot to take into account for were the eagles. They had very keen eyes, after all.

The sun was bright in the western sky, and the tides had begun their shift. What seemed like an entire battalion of Amazonian warriors filed out onto the beach, and at their head rode Hippolyta, crowned in her royal jewels. Her silken robes created a brilliant contrast with the heavily armored soldiers.

"What man approaches these shores?" she shouted across the expanse, her tone both an invitation to answer and a warning to stay put.

===

Clark stood still and tried to look non-threatening.  

"I’m… Superman," he said.  "I’ve come to see one of your warriors.  The one called Diana.  I’m working with her to find your missing sister."

Off to a  _great_  start.

===

"Mother!" Diana pushed her way through the phalanx. She dropped her voice when she stood close. "Mother, this is who I was telling you about, he can help us—"

"Help us?" Hippolyta demanded. "Diana, you have  _doomed_  us. You lead him straight to our shores!”

"I don’t  _know_  how he followed me, he went in a completely different direction when we parted. But Mother, please, list—”

“ _Don’t. You. ‘Mother.’ Me._ " Hippolyta glared down at her daughter. Her fists almost shook with rage as they gripped the horse’s reins, and Diana stared back, horror-stricken. "As of this moment, you are grounded to your room indefinitely." Two honor guards appeared to flank Diana. Hippolyta tossed her chin up at that. "Take her back."

"No." Diana watched as Hippolyta’s anger only grew, but she stayed put. "I’m going with  _him_. We cannot hide any longer,  _Mother_. And you know that. I know you do.”

Hippolyta raised her head. “If you step off this island, you are no longer my daughter—” She hesitated, her anger breaking like waves on the cliff before it was hastily replaced, this time less certain than before. “And we may never see each other again.  _You_  know  _that_.”

"I do," Diana said, walking out into the water. She stopped short of Superman. "My jet is just off the cliffs."

===

Clark quietly watched the scene transpire before him, contemplating turning away, as it seemed like a family matter.  But it happened before a crowd, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

But Diana was… her mother was the leader.  The… queen.  She hadn’t said that…

When she approached him, Clark furrowed his brow.  ”Are you sure you want to go through with this?  That you’re prepared to live with… the consequences?”

===

Diana closed her eyes and went through one shuddering breath. For a moment she looked like she was a gentle breeze away from falling apart, but then she was stiffened her lip and squared her shoulders. “My ship is hovering over the cliffs. Let’s go.” She took off towards it, and left the door open for Superman.

===

He nodded wordlessly and followed her to the cliffs.  He couldn’t help admiring her determination and bravery… and the way she was going to keep going, would probably keep going until she dropped.  Even though she could fall apart, and no one would have blamed her.

And despite the fact that they were different, he was glad they were on the same side.


	6. Chapter 6

"How did you find me?" Diana asked, going straight to the cockpit.

===

He hesitated momentarily.  ”Batman… tracked your jet.  That was what I meant when I said he was good in these kinds of situations.  He thinks of these things.”

===

"I see." Diana watched Superman with a weary eye. "So what happened? Why did you need to find me?"

===

"This thing, those guys that attacked us, it goes deeper than we thought," Clark began.  "That was a group called the League of Assassins that attacked us, and there must have been something in the colony of great value to them and their leader.  This is pretty serious."

 

===

Diana’s mouth fell open and her brows pulled tight together. “They were botanists,” she said incredulously. “They grew plants from the Old World. They didn’t even have access to any of our archives. Not directly, at least. What could your world want with botanists?”

===

Clark thought for a moment.  ”Maybe they had a plant that was of some value to the League.”  He hesitated.  ”And… there’s no other way to say this than to just come out with it.  It’s possible that Macaria is dead.  And even if she isn’t, it’s also possible that she was working with the people who attacked us.”

 

===

Diana let the rumble of the engines answer for her. “Where are we going to find these assassins?”

===

Clark sighed.  ”For now, we go to Gotham.”

Diana nodded and the started out.  ”Just as well.  We can reconvene with your Batman, and…”

"He isn’t  _my_  Batman,” Clark interrupted.

Diana looked at him and raised a brow.  ”I did not mean to imply…” But she let the statement trail off, and Clark blushed and looked away.  ”We should arrive in about six hours.”

Clark nodded.  ”That’s fine.”  He’d have time to prepare himself to deal with all of this.  He was tired, he realized.  Yes, six hours was good… the quiet before the storm, with any luck.

===

Bruce knew two things: one, that the drug the kids had been hustling was a modified Bane venom, and required a catalyst to activate; two, that he had no idea what that catalyst was.

The first thing he did was call Gordon and pass along the accumulated evidence. Even without knowing what exactly to test for, they all knew to keep tabs on the water treatment plants and to continually test for abnormalities, as well as to set up guards around the areas. That would be the most likely way to infect anyone who used the drug.

Bruce scowled at the thought. Sending kids to sell a drug like that? What was the point in using the children? Logically, he could deduce several reasons for it, each one more disgusting than the last. He could even see the tactical advantage behind it. That didn’t make it right.

But there were just too many other possibilities for everything to be covered, because Bruce didn’t know what the exact catalyst was. Eyes blowing out, muscles popping out of the skin — any of these would be good enough for your average terrorist. But Ra’s would want destruction, chaos, and the collapse of civilization as mankind knew it. How many other cities had this drug? How many time bombs were walking around out there right now, looking for their next fix, not knowing that the next thing they consume could be their last?

Without knowing the exact catalyst, Bruce didn’t know if it could, say, survive in a Arizona Iced Tea can. Or if it was a powder poured into the soup kitchen’s cooking pots. Or if there were League agents out there right now, walking around with an aerosol dispenser, completely unnoticed.

Bruce appended his earlier thought: he knew three things.

Climbing the stairs to the third floor, Bruce contacted Barbara and told her the whole situation, more than what he told Gordon. He mentioned Diana and the Amazons, and he thought that he had given it enough time. He ought to check up on Clark’s progress which, seeing as how Clark hadn’t called in distress, must be good.

But just as he opened the door to his bedroom, ready to activate the comm unit between them, he froze. Talia turned around and smiled at him. “Hello, Bruce.”

Bruce slid himself into the room and shut the door behind him. “Talia.”

"It’s alright," she said. She started walking around, moving away from Bruce. Bruce followed her movements with his eyes. "I’m only here for a short visit."

"So you weren’t lying. What you said before."

She hummed a laugh. “Now when have I ever done that?”

"Do you really want a list?"

Talia stopped in her tracks. She tried looking over her shoulder just then, a glance that would betray more emotion that she wanted to convey. She stopped. “No, that’s quite alright. I take it you found my message?”

"Your message." Bruce felt his neck go stiff. Talia continued walking.

"He knew that if he used children, he would get your attention sooner. Imagine his surprise when it’s the Gotham SWAT team on his door, and the other one — Barbara, is it? — chasing down his pupil." She stopped in her original position. This time she did look at him, with a smirk that belonged on a tiger. "Then again, you’ve been having  _fun_  in Metropolis, haven’t you?” She started walking again, tracing her old steps.

Bruce’s nostrils flared. He felt his chest rise and fall, but all of the air in the room might as well have been taken from him. “You need to leave, Talia.”

"I know." She finished her second circuit, then with three easy strides put herself right on the brink of what Bruce would allow. "A warning, though, my love." Bruce’s hand balled into fists. She smiled. "You are the world’s greatest detective, but my father is the world’s best magician. You cannot see what you do not know to look for."

Bruce stayed in his spot as she walked out of the room. He picked up his torso brace, what he had originally come to his room for, before following her at a distance to the grand stairs, watching from the top as Alfred — Alfred who was getting too close, Alfred who had more foolish bravery than wisdom right now — opened the door and let her out. Talia vanished into a car waiting outside. Alfred closed the door.

And then Bruce heard the sirens. Not police sirens, not way out here, though farther towards the city he knew he’d be able to hear every available squad car rolling into action. The ones he heard now were normally used for extreme weather, but there was a sharp crescendo in the middle, the high-pitched wail that said “lock your doors” in between “run for cover.”

They were too late. Gotham was under attack.

"Superman," Bruce spoke into the comm unit, practically flying into the ‘Cave himself, "we need you here,  _now_.”

===

He’d fallen asleep.  He hadn’t slept much the night before and he needed the rest… and Diana was quiet and allowed him his rest.

But though he slept for a while, he didn’t get much rest.  It wasn’t long before the nightmares came back.  He could see every second of that fight in vivid slow motion, heard bones cracking in the most excruciating volume, felt the way all those bodies hit the ground at practically the same time… heard each heart stop beating, one at a time, close enough together that he didn’t have to wait long between them but far enough apart that he could count them.  He couldn’t do anything about any of it.  Stupid, useless, and…

"Superman!  By Hera, wake up, Superman!" he heard.

He shook his head and tried to come back to reality.  Just a dream.  ”Diana, I’m sorry… I nodded off.”

"You sounded like you were in such distress," she said, brows furrowed.  "You were muttering things and gasping… and then you started thrashing like you were being attacked.  I was sure you were unwell.  Are you…"

"Thank you for your concern," Clark said quickly.  "I’m fine."  Diana looked unconvinced but said nothing.

It wasn’t very long before he got Batman’s call.  He sat up even straighter in his seat and tried to clear everything from his voice but the strength he needed right now.  ”I’m on my way now, Batman,” he replied quickly.  ”Diana is with me.  What’s happened?”

===

"Ra’s made his move. Gotham’s been hit." Bruce snapped the brace together and opened the armor case. On his computer, six different news stations were showing footage of people with mutated arms, legs, skulls, torsos, everything and everything in a mix-match of selection, all ravaging the city or fighting against the police. Some of them, bullets merely bounced off their hyper-thick muscles. "I need  _you_ here  _now_.”

===

He closed his eyes and sighed, catching his breath,  He turned his head quickly to Diana.  She said it would be about a six hour flight but he’d lost of track of time when he fell asleep.  ”How much longer is this going to take?”

She thought for a moment.  ”Probably just over an hour.  Forty-five minutes if I hurry.  What’s happened?”

He unfastened his seat belt.  ”They hit Gotham… and forty-five minutes won’t be soon enough.”  He moved for the hatch… he could probably fly it in ten.  ”You’ll probably be able to find me when you land… if not, I’ll find you.  But I have to…”

She nodded.  ”Go.  I will be fine.”

He was out of the jet and racing toward Gotham before he pressed the button that connected him to Bruce and said, “Ten minutes, maybe eight.  But I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

===

Bruce kept the line on as he changed into the armor. Ten or eight minutes, that’s how long he usually took to suit up. This time, he aimed to make it five.

He heard the screech of her tires as she came barreling into the Batcave. “Bruce!” Barbara yelled. “What’s the plan? It’s a goddamn hell out there!”

"Superman’s en route," Bruce shouted from the armory. "Get on the computer, link our comm units with your dad’s radio."

Barbara looked white as the moon when he came out covered in armor. “My dad,” she gasped.

"Is fine, he’s seen worse." Bruce went for the Batmobile. To be honest, he couldn’t think of worse.

&&&

There were thirteen so far, but there was no telling how many more would start cropping up. Batman needed a blood sample. Lucky him, it would be pretty easy to get.

The first Abomination he encountered had one arm too big and one arm too small, and a bulge on his forehead like a crusted tumor. Veins throbbed in his too-big arm while lesions leaked sickly yellow puss all over his chest and neck, dripping down onto what remained of his clothes.

He had green eyes, Bruce saw. He thought about the rats.

Batman dipped right to avoid the left hook by a mutated fist. He jammed his grappling hook into its leg, ignored the splitting yowl it blasted into the air, then yanked out the line and in less than half a minute had the creature all tied up.

Bruce took a clean blood sample as best he could. Now where was Superman?

===

Seven minutes had him approaching the Batcave, but before he went in, he saw that Batman had already gone out into the streets.  

"Tell me where you need me to go," he said over the comm. 

===

"Work with the Commissioner and Batgirl, get these things contained as fast as you can." Batman dropped into his Batmobile and sped straight back to the ‘Cave. There was no "cure" for Bane venom, but this? This was modified to the point where he suspected there could be.

Halfway down Delancy Street, he ran into a pair of Abominations going at a squad of GCPD. One of the men had a broken leg. One of the Abominations was literally puking out its own guts. They dangled from its mouth, strings of intestines, blood, and bile.

He had to stop. He had to fight. He had to give the injured officer a chance to get to safety. And after he knocked the more lively Abomination unconscious with an electrocuted punch, he saw that the second one was dead.

It had hazel eyes.

Bruce drew a blood sample from the two of them, because he realized he was going to need more than what he originally got, and disappeared into a back alley tunnel to his ‘Cave.

===

"Right," he replied.  He went into the ‘Cave and Barbara jerked around when the door came open.  She had been so wrapped up in what she was doing that she hadn’t seem him approach on the monitors.

"Oh, thank God, reinforcements," she said quickly, sighing in relief.  "I need you to head over to the corner of Main and O’Neal… there’s a whole block under attack."

"On it," he said quickly, and dashed back out.  He hadn’t stopped to ask questions of either Bruce or Barbara, so he was surprised by what he saw as he flew overhead, 22 seconds from the ‘Cave to his assigned location.  The people in the streets had almost all been mutated to the point that they were barely recognizable as people.

When he landed, one of these… creatures had a woman, middle aged and wearing a long skirt and leather sandals, cornered.  ”¡Ayúdame!” she cried, heart pounding and tears falling.   _Help me_.   “¡Madre de Dios, ayúdame!”   _Mother of God, help me_.  Clark had to pull the thing back by his bulbous arm and punch him out.  

"¡Adentro!" he ordered.   _Get inside_.  The woman ran into the building she had been hemmed up against and Clark heard the latch click into place.  He hoped being inside would be enough.

Several feet from there, he saw a dead body.  It looked like he had been a young man, probably college aged.  He probably had parents and siblings, friends… maybe a girlfriend or boyfriend… and all of those people were just as likely to have fallen victim to this… atrocity.  It was horrific.

At that moment, another of these victims came up behind him quickly, quietly, and tugged his cape so hard he was actually yanked backwards.  He turned back quickly and punched the thing in the chest, pushing him backwards so he fell to the ground and knocked himself unconscious.

The streets were full of them.  It was like something out of a ’50s sci-fi/horror film… except much more chilling because it was infinitely more real.

===

Barbara had the whole computer system under her control. Every monitor had something displayed, ever processor was running at full capacity. Once or twice she saw the machine bleed into virtual memory, so she started offloading whatever processes she could to her own setup at home. Thank God Bruce had given her one of his modified Bluetooth cards.

"Bullock, you’ve got incoming from Trenton, watch your 4," she said. "Gordon, we need another containment unit at Main and O’Neal." And wasn’t that weird, calling her dad  _Gordon_  like he didn’t change her diapers for three years.

Bruce showed up in the Batmobile and hauled ass to the lab. She didn’t have room for a video connection to talk to him, but she suspected he didn’t want conversation anyways. This was a crisis and he had work to do. That’s how it went with him.

She was using cameras from all over Gotham — in ATMs, security feeds, cell phones, TV stations — to identify and keep track of each of the—the things, the…She didn’t know what to call them. They were people, a part of her kept saying, and yet she watched as two laid into each other like mad lions.

She was going to need a whole lot of serious therapy when this was over. If it ever would be. The GCPD was stretched thin, Superman was there but he couldn’t be everywhere, and one of the containment cells just broke open and—

And then, halfway through her dad giving new instructions to his men, she heard a new voice coming through his end. It was light and cheery, kind of like what she imagined Bruce might sound like if he was actually happy with his life.

"Hi, Green Lantern. You look like you could use a hand."

Through her video feeds, she saw him drop three incredibly unconscious things into a truck, using the energy coming from his— his ring, she remembered. Bruce had files on him. Bruce had been watching them all.

Barbara stared at her fingers hovering over the keyboard. How many others were out there?


	7. Chapter 7

Clark had just been thrown into a wall by one of the overpowered, musclebound mutants and had yanked the guy’s foot out from under him and sent him crashing to the ground when he saw a blur of green whir past him and throw itself into the fray and start working.  Clark had seen him before, even did a story about him once.  ”You’re the Green Lantern?” he asked, watching as the man used the power from his ring to trap two of the people in a cage he constructed just be pointing his fist.  It was pretty cool.

"I am," he said with a smirk.  "And you’re Superman.  And hopefully we’ll have time to sit and get to know one another later."

"I’m just glad you’re here  _now_ ,” Clark said, stopping two of the affected people from tearing one another apart in the street.  ”The more the merrier, I always say.”

Diana arrived not long after Green Lantern.  She flew near Clark, without her jet and landed beside him and started to work on the nearest brute.  ”How did you…?” he began.

"I threw the jet into overdrive," she answered.  "It was great fun."  She grabbed the sword at her side and Clark expected the worst, but she looked at him out the corner of her eye as she simply smashed the hilt into the man’s side, probably hurting him but not killing him.  Not even close.  Clark heaved a sigh of relief. 

"I went to Batman’s cave," she continued.  "There was a young woman there called Batgirl… she told me to come here.  Said that you were beset…"

He smiled, only a trace of bitterness, as he landed a punch.  ”What, this?  Just any other day of the week.”

She returned the smile and said, “Today you are a warrior.”

"Are warriors always so chatty?" the Green Lantern shouted from across the way, not slowing down for a second.  But his voice wasn’t harsh.

The three of them worked, and Clark was never so thankful to have people around him who were on the same side as him.  He knew that wherever Bruce was, he’d be right in the middle of things like the soldier he was, figuring out how this had happened and how to stop it.  At least he hoped.

&&&

All over town, the police fought to restore some sense of sanity to the town.  The affected people were running rampant in the streets attacking the police and any unaffected civilians… and each other.  Store windows and walls would get damaged by the affected, and the unaffected would take advantage of it by looting.  Some people were trying to get out of town, but the bridge was closed in an attempt to keep the affected people from crossing into neighboring cities because no one knew how whatever the hell this was was being passed.  Was it contagious?  Airborne?  Had some people ingested it somehow?  These were answers they didn’t yet have and couldn’t take chances.

Jim Gordon had radioed with this Batgirl person several times.  She was fast and smart and she was on top of things.  And the way she gave orders was like she was a natural.  He still wasn’t convinced that Batman taking her on was a good idea, but… today he was glad of her.  

&&&

The medical professionals of Gotham were completely overwhelmed.  Some of the affected people were being brought into the hospitals and clinics, but they were already overcrowded with people that had been hurt during run-ins with the affected.   _They_  were lucky… the coroner had been the busiest man in all the city.  Some people had come looking for vaccines that didn’t exist yet.

Dr. Thompkins little clinic was so full that she couldn’t possible help everyone herself and people could barely sit down.  Still she wouldn’t close her doors.

&&&

A scarlet and gold blur made its way into town and right into the heart of the mess on Main and O’Neal.  He’d seen it on the news, just before Angela Storm, the fill-in reporter on the scene, had had her arm ripped off on camera.  They didn’t get “technical difficulties” screen up in time.

He found Superman in the chaos and said, “Sorry I’m late to the scene, but…”

A voice interrupted him.  ”Hey, Bare.”

His head whipped around.  Green Lantern.  He should have known.  ”You… no… don’t call me that in front of people, GL.”

"Sorry, Barry," he shrugged.  "I mean, Flash.  Sorry, Flash."

"Who’s chatty now?" Clark asked.  "Thanks for coming, Flash.  You can work with the Lantern, since you two seem to know one another."

He sighed.  This was going to be the Arena World all over again.

&&&

She hadn’t been sure if she’d be of any help, or if she’d be the right kind of help, but since she had been in nearby Shadowcrest anyways, she had to come.  She had to try.  If her father had been there he would have tried… and she would have wanted to make him proud.

She didn’t wait for anyone to give her orders, just got into Gotham as best she could and fought her way through the crowds.  She found herself less than a block away from Superman, the Superman.  And next to him was some fantastic woman that looked like she belonged in a picture book about the valkyries or something.

When the first of the mutated people came at her, she wondered if it had been a spell.  She tried a little counter charm, “Esaeler siht tirips.” But nothing.  She figured it could be easiest and safest to knock them out, so she need only say one word.  ”Peels!” and they’d fall unconscious.

&&&

People naturally began to look to Clark as the leader of this resistance.  He put the Flash to work with tracking and had the Green Lantern working with the containment crew.  He sent Diana out into the street to protect civilians.

The magic user he watched for some time before asking her to join him.  He had to be sure that she was on their side… because if she was trying to win him over, only to use her magic against him… he didn’t have the time to recover from a spell right now.

But… he felt like he could trust her, and usually his instincts were right.

They worked quietly before she eventually volunteered, “Name’s Zatanna.  Zatanna Zatara.”

"Zatara?" Clark asked.  "As in Zatara the Great?  I saw one of his shows when I was a kid."

"That was my dad," she said.  She took three more of  _them_  down with a sleep spell.

"He was amazing," Clark said, landing a punch.

They fought and fought and even though they knew they were making progress it seemed like nothing was getting better.  Though time ticked slowly, it had been at least half an hour since this had begun, and every time they took one of the creatures down, it seemed like two more would come back in his or her place.

But still they fought, because that was the only thing they could do.

===

The whole time, he couldn’t stop thinking of Talia. She came into his house and waited in his room without knowing for sure that Bruce would decide to go there. And then—

 _My father is a great magician_.

Bruce frowned. She did not mean that comment literally. She couldn’t have. Ra’s believed in magic, Ra’s often sought out the use of magic, but he was no real magician himself. The only other use of that word lie in trickery and sleight-of-hand, which wouldn’t surprise him at all, if that turned out to be part of Ra’s’ game. If all of  _this_  turned out to be part of it. But it was either cure these people or watch Gotham burn, so Batman was forced to play along. For now.

The results were finally in on the first sample of blood. He read the sheet, he ran the numbers. There was, in fact, a possible cure. It took him the second sample to synthesize it, and the third sample to test it. Looking through the microscope, he could see the drug being eaten by the quasi-virus, and the virus in turn being destroyed by white blood cells. Of course, there was always room for error. But either he went out and got more blood samples, then spent another 45 minutes just testing alone, or he took the risk and hoped it paid off.

Bruce didn’t believe in God as much as he believed in coincidences, but just before putting his finger to the comm unit, he decided to shoot a quick mental prayer to the heavens. It couldn’t hurt, not at this point.

"Superman, cave, now," he said, gathering up the first batch of the antidote. There were ten injections total. Bruce readied them in a small handgun originally designed for tranquilizers.

===

"On my way," Clark replied, hearing Bruce’s voice.  

Before he flew off, he turned to Green Lantern, by virtue of the fact that he was nearby, and said, “Keep your eye on things for me, will you?”

"Sure thing," he replied.  But Clark was already flying.  He approached the Cave and let himself in.

"What have you got, B?" he asked.

===

"A cure, hopefully," Bruce said, holding out the spare ammunition, five darts total. He kept the gun for himself, figured Clark could just throw them fast enough anyways. "I’m making as much as I can as fast as I can."

He was going to say more, he was going to ask about the situation and if anything had spread beyond the reach of Gotham — and then he saw the news feeds. The multiple news feeds, as it were. And yes, Diana he expected. Diana he had comes to term with, mostly. But there were three others darting about  _his_  city, doing what  _he_  should be doing and—

 _No_. Bruce steeled his face and stopped himself. This was’t the time, he’d deal with it all later. “Get out there and use it, then come back for more. Alfred will keep the machine running.” He went for the Batmobile.

 _My father is a great magician_ , Talia had said. And she walked the same path, the same exact path, twice. Bruce could have gotten out a map, could have confirmed his suspicion. But he didn’t need to.

He left for Arkham.

===

He looked hopefully at the medicine filled darts in his hands and headed back into the streets.  He hoped this cure would work, and he hoped there would be more ready by the time he got back.  And he hoped that Bruce was… okay.  It’d be asking a lot to hope for any more than that, all things considered, but still he hoped.

He flew over Diana, and she shouted, “Good news, I hope.”

"With any luck," he replied.  He didn’t take the time to stop and consider on whom he should use the cure… he just threw the darts at the first five affected people he saw below him.  He didn’t know if they had worked or how long they would take, and he didn’t waste time waiting to see.  He flew back to the Batcave and let himself in.

"Alfred," he called.  "I need more or the medicine if you’ve got it ready."

===

Arkham was an island of silence in the middle of Gotham’s madness. Batman went through the gate unchallenged, was accepted past the fortress’ security hall without so much as a second glance. They had been doing their best to keep the inmates unaware of the outside world. But there was nothing to be done about the drift of sirens over the water.

"Looky, looky, here comes  _Fatman,”_  Joker sneered. “Are you a little lost, Batman? The crisis is over there! Too bad you’re not a homing pigeon, eh?” He rolled into a laugh. Batman kept walking. He passed cell after cell, checked off inmate after inmate on the list in his head. There was only one not being held in this building.

Once out in the courtyard, Batman took a left. The botanical gardens were in a greenhouse on the peninsula of the island. The guards did a quick up-and-down scan, then opened the doors and let Batman in.

Batman didn’t recognize them, and he did not miss the  _click_  as the locks were slid into place behind him.

"So that’s how it’s going to be," he said. He looked out into the jungle ahead of him, turned on his visor to detect heat signatures hidden in the darkness. Three were lit up as yellow beacons.

Pamela’s cell was near the center of the greenhouse. He didn’t need to be told twice to move quickly, not as throwing stars sank into the ground where he once stood.


	8. Chapter 8

"We’re churning them out five at a time," Alfred had said.  "Here you are, sir."  He took the darts from the machine and handed them to Clark.  "There should be more waiting by the time you get back."

Clark flew back out into the city and administered the five doses he had brought with him to the first five affected people he saw.

He then flew back to where Diana was.  ”Where are the people I gave the medicine to?”  

"The Flash got them to the hospital," she replied.  "We do not yet know if the cure will work."  

He figured it was too soon, but he had to ask anyways… just in case.  He flew back to the ‘Cave and got five more darts from Alfred and headed back out into the fray.

===

Pamela didn’t actually get to have any plants in her cell. She could feel them, though, screaming, reaching out to her, clinging to her steel box as best they could. And then the gardener would come by and trim them back, and she would be still stuck inside, more alone than ever.

They wouldn’t let her back into the main building. Not after  _last_  time. So when the door to her tiny little coffin was ripped open by a woman with the arms of a god, well, she decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Cool, fresh air washed over Pamela. She closed her eyes and breathed it in, sucked in all the carbon and nitrogen. “This comes at a price, doesn’t it?”

The woman might have smiled. Pamela couldn’t see beyond the mask over her mouth and nose. ”Fine, I know how this works.  _Take me to your leader_ , or whatever it is you’re hoping I’ll say.” She only planned on getting out of Arkham, she didn’t plan on sticking around with this chick any longer than that.

&&&

Batman saw Poison Ivy step out of her holding cell, saw the second woman with olive skin and black hair. He had freeze capsules ready, was planning six different attacks in the time it took to take a breath—

—and then he was being thrown back against a tree.

"I’ve had a lot of time to think, ever since they put me in that box," he heard Ivy say. The walls were closing in around him. Or rather, it was the bark of the tree that was pulling him in. "I was going to do this to the gardener, really. But I guess it’ll just have to be you.  _Ta-tah_ , Batman. You’ll feed her well.”

"Ivy," he gasped, but anything more was lost as his mouth was stuffed with leaves.

He had to think fast. His arms were pinned inside immobile bark; he couldn’t reach the panic button on his belt.  _Note: fix that_. His next option was his comm unit, but though he could shift his head, though he could activate the line, his mouth was gagged. So he did the only thing he could do: he pressed his forehead against the bark coming over him, and he pushed down.

The cowl came off with a hiss. Without his hands on the fabric, nerve gas was ejected from the small tubes in the neck. But it also sent a message back to home base, one that Barbara received in vivid color.

"Superman!" she barked into the private comm line. "You need to get to Arkham, now! The computer’s telling me his cowl came off!"

===

Superman had been on his way back to the ‘Cave when he got the call.  ”Oh, God,” he muttered.  ”On it.”  This would have to be… bad.  There was no way it could be anything but.  If his cowl was off…

He flew as fast as he could.  It didn’t take long.

He made it past the entrance and the guards, daring anyone to try and stop him.  But he didn’t know where he was going, what he was looking for.

He ignored the inmates and every so called clever line they hurled at him.  He turned to the nearest guard and demanded, “Where’s Batman?”

The guy smirked at him.  ”I didn’t see no Bats Man.  Did any a you?”  He looked at the nearest couple of cells, but before any of them provided a remark, Clark lifted the guy up by the collar.

"Where’s Batman?" he demanded again.  The guy squirmed and kicked against him and Clark tightened his grip.  "I’ll ask once more…"

The guy squirmed and spat out.  ”He went out to tha courtyard.  Didn’t see which way he went from there, honest.”

Clark lowered the man back to the ground and smoothed his collar.  ”Now, that wasn’t so hard.  Thank you.”  He dashed outside and over towards an open and empty cell.

He propelled himself over to Batman and began to rip away the leaves and bark at once.  ”Well, this is a mess.”

===

Bruce coughed as the leaves were unplugged from his mouth. “You’re telling me,” he managed to get out. He didn’t get much of the neurotoxins in him, thankfully. “Where’s Ivy? Did you see where she went?”

===

"I didn’t see her or anyone else," he replied.  "Except a couple of unfriendly guards and inmates." 

===

"Unfriendly." Bruce stumbled forward as he worked his way out of the last of the bark. "How unfriendly?"

===

"Whoopsie daisy, there sailor," Clark said, catching him and fighting back a blush.  "And uh, I… just couldn’t get straight answers from them.  That’s all."  

"Are you okay?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

===

"I’m fine." He pushed Clark back with his hand, but he didn’t pull it away.

With his other hand, he radioed for Batgirl. “What’s the situation in the city?”

"Um, one sec." Radio silence. "Sorry, that was Flash. I, um. I had to call him in. To the ‘Cave. He was the only one who can get this cure delivered as fast as we need it to. But it’s working, people are starting to sort of  _fade_  back to normal. Most are in incredible pain, there are lots of broken limbs, but they’re alive. Everyone’s alive.”  _For the most part_  hung between them in the silence.

Bruce tried lifting his hand off Clark, but it fell back down again. He was fine. He really was fine. No exhaustion, no fatigue, no swimming head or buzzing ears. Still, he reached into his belt and pulled out his catch-all for Pamela’s usual tricks, downed it before pulling the cowl back on. He could do proper tests in the Batcave once this was all over.

"Go back out there and clean things up," he said to Clark. If he focused, he could keep himself up straight. He had tricks. This was minor. He’d be back to normal soon.

===

"Are you  _sure_  you’re going to be okay?” Clark asked, eyebrow raised.  He looked at Bruce’s hand, which hadn’t quite left his body.  He didn’t  _mind_  its presence (didn’t have the time to think about how much he enjoyed it, actually), but it was… uncharacteristic.  ”You seem a might unsteady.  I could fly you back before I go out there… wouldn’t take a moment.”  He looked too unsteady to drive, though Clark didn’t want to say that.  But knowing Bruce, he’d catch what was implied.

===

Batman just glared at him. He tucked his hands under his cape and started tracking what he could. The League assassins could cover their tracks, Pamela never left anything other than the odd leaf just as indistinguishable in the foliage as a single blade of grass, but that other one, probably the missing Amazon, wasn’t as subtle.

"Superman, we could really use you help getting the sick to the hospitals," Batgirl said.

===

He shrugged.  ”On it.”  And he took off.  He shouldn’t try to be nice.

Back on the street, he found Green Lantern, who said, “Flash says they’re full up at General and Memorial, so he’s been taking them to Sacred Heart.”

"Got it," he said.  "Thanks, GL."  He grabbed the three nearest people and flew off in the direction of the hospital.

===

It was another four hours before the city finally seemed to be recovering from what had happened. It might be weeks, or even months, before all the damage was repaired. But it only took minutes before politicians were using the “incident” to promote stricter anti-drug laws.

"Turn it off," Batman said. Barbara didn’t even glance at him; she disabled the news feeds.

Bruce, personally, was still recovering from having to deal with Green Lantern and Flash. ”We’ll take it from here,” he had told them.

Green Lantern was looking at him like he was the most disconcerting thing he’d ever seen. “You’re real?”

“ _Lantern_ ,” Flash hissed. He tried smiling at Batman. “We were happy to help out.”

"No but seriously," Green Lantern insisted. "I thought you were just some crazy legend."

Flash sighed heavily. “Watch the news, Hal.”

"Don’t—"

"Jordon," Batman said. Hal froze in his spot. "And Barry Allen. Now leave."

Hal scoffed. “Cheery, isn’t he?”

"I don’t want to hear it," Barry said. The two left in their own respective manners, though Hal made a pit stop for a reporter of the  _Gazette_.

Now Bruce was peeling off his gloves to draw his own blood sample. This wasn’t over. He knew this was far from over. Ra’s’ attack on Gotham had only been smoke and mirrors. If it hadn’t been for Talia, well…

Bruce set the machine to work. He needed to talk to Diana about the Saharan colony, and he needed to talk to Clark…about a lot of things. A lot of damn  _things_.

===

After getting as many people as he possible could to every hospital in the area, Clark met up with Diana.  She had been helping the police keep the civilians who had been lucky enough not to be affected out of harm’s way, and once the worst of it passed, people began to notice that a woman, who was about six and half feet tall and wearing a star spangled bathing suit, was apart of the recovery effort.  He correctly assumed she must be an internet sensation by this time.

"I think we’ve done what we can out here," Clark said.  "I think we’ve gotten  things cleaned up pretty well for now.  We should probably head in, reconvene with Batman."

They flew back to the Batcave and went in.  Barbara hopped out of her seat in front of the computer and ran over to greet them.  ”You were amazing today,” she said, gushing to Diana.  Then, casting a guilty look to Clark, she amended, “Both of you were great.  Everyone worked so hard.”

Clark smiled.  ”It’s fine.  Diana  _was_  amazing.  Where’s Flash and GL?  I thought you guys had them here with you?”

She shook her head and smiled.  ”Bruce could only take so much.  They both had cities to get back to anyways.  What happened to the, uh, magician chick with the crazy fishnets?”

"She said she had to take off," Clark said, shrugging.  "But she left a number to contact her if we ever needed help kind of help.  And her name is Zatanna… she’s the real deal."

"I picked up some of those gibberish spells she was saying," Barbara said.  "What’s her deal?"

"Well, we didn’t have much time to talk," Clark said.  "So I can’t tell you her whole ‘deal,’ but I do know that wasn’t gibberish.  She says her spells backwards.  Her father did the same… he was a big deal magician in his day."

"Like Criss Angel?" Barbara said with a cheeky smirk.

Clark laughed.  ”Yeah, but without the whole hair thing.”

Barbara smiled and turned to Diana, who was looking around her quietly.  ”You know, people are kind of nuts about you.  They’re calling you Wonder Woman online.”

"Wonder Woman?" she asked.  "Oh… my…"

"I think it’s pretty fitting," she said with a smile.  "Gosh, you’re tall."

"I’m the smallest of my sisters," Diana replied curiously.

"Wow," Barbara replied.  "So you just like live on this island full of, what, like 100 kickass girls?"

Diana smiled.  ”Kickass  _women_.”

===

Nothing. There was nothing in his system at all. Bruce stared at the print-out, thought of doing something more extensive. And he would, at a later date. But for now he’d just have to assume that whatever happened in the Arkham greenhouse had been psychological. All indicators pointed towards that.

Bruce put his glove on and kept the cowl over his eyes. “Diana, we need to talk. Today’s attack was orchestrated by Ra’s al Ghul.”

"The one who attacked our Saharan colony." Diana lifted her chin. "Superman informed me on the way here."

"Good. Then you should know what I’m going to ask."

"Yes. The Saharans were botanists. They grew plants from the Old World. They didn’t fight as we do, they didn’t study histories as some of our other sisters do. And they are gone. There is no way to get to them, not unless you can change time itself."

"Hm." Bruce went over to the computer. "When you say Old World—"

"When the Gods roamed free on Earth."

"Of course." Not much had changed since then, evolutionary speaking. He suspected that the true ‘Old World’ was a time many more years ago than she said, or there wouldn’t need to be such a distinction. "With Pamela under his wing, there’s no telling what Ra’s could be doing with whatever he managed to get from your Old World botanists."

===

Clark had walked up behind Diana in the middle of that conversation.  When Bruce finished speaking, Clark gave a little nod at this new information.  ”Pamela — Poison Ivy, right?” he asked.  Then, before Bruce had time to answer, he thought of something else he had wondered earlier.  ”And how did you know to go out to Arkham?”

===

"I wanted to make sure none of the guards had been infected. The last thing we needed was Scarecrow out there on top of it all." He brought up a map. "Diana, how fast can your ship fly?"

"It won’t be able to."

Bruce turned to her.

"The overdrive to get here shot part of the engine." Diana wilted. "It was Agatha’s ship before mine. She’s the one who found it, fixed it. Taught me how to fly it, but repairs…"

Bruce looked back at the screen. He did not have enough fuel for his own plane, and purchasing jet fuel even as a corporation was difficult at best. For anything hasty, that route was completely out of the picture.

"What sort of fuel does it use?" he asked.

"Suspended fusion."

Bruce  _looked_  at her.

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Holy crap," Barbara said.  She immediately turned around as if she had not been listening to their conversation and made that comment in reference to it, but it was completely understandable.

"No, I think we were all thinking it," Clark replied, eyebrow raised.  He looked at Diana, who was completely unfazed, and then at Bruce… who was not.

===

"Diana," Bruce began, glancing quickly at Clark, "where is it, right now?"

Diana burrowed her eyebrows. “Superman told me you were—”

"Asking is faster."

"…Fine. It’s anchored to a shore not far from here."

"Good. Superman, go with her, bring it into the hanger, cliff side. I’ll open the door for you."

===

"Can do," he said.  "Let’s go, Diana."  She led the way out the ‘Cave and to the jet.  "I can just haul it in…"

"There is no need for you to do it on your own," Diana replied.  "I can help you."

Clark shook his head.  ”It’d be easier if I…”

"I do not need to have a man do for me," she protested.

He sighed.  ”That’s not at all what this is.  I’m helping because this is what I can do.  The truth is that we’ll get it back to the ‘Cave quicker if I do it myself.  I’m not trying to insult you, but you said yourself that I fly faster than you do.”

"Fine," she said with a sigh and a nod.  "I’m just… unaccustomed to taking orders."

He raised a brow, because that didn’t sound like it was entirely about him.  He knew  _exactly_ what she meant.  ”You know, he doesn’t mean anything by that.  He just thinks fast and sorta… works better when problems are solved quickly and thoroughly.  That’s why he takes charge… so things get done.”  He lifted the jet up and hoisted it high.  He could carry it easier that way.

Diana flew along beside him.  ”I suppose you’re right,” she said, and the subject was dropped.  But he almost laughed at the thought of how Bruce would surely grumble if he heard Clark defending him.  But he said no more, and they were quiet as they flew back, taking a tad longer this time because the weight of the jet slowed Clark a little.

He brought the jet into the open hangar door and set it down gently.

===

Bruce was waiting for them. “Is there a way to disable the invisibility?”

Diana nodded. “Yes, one moment.” She glided through the passenger door. A short while later, the jet was fully visible in all its glory.

Bruce could immediately see what Diana meant about the engines, though what he saw was mostly in the exhaust system. “I’m going to need to look inside. This…may take some time, to fix. We may be forced to fly commercial.”

===

Diana furrowed her brows.  ”Hm.  Can’t Superman just…”

Clark shook his head.  ”He hates when I do that.”

Barbara snorted.

===

Bruce glared. Still, he fought the upwards tug of his lips. “Unless Diana can also fly the speed of sound, I’m not going to be carried for twelve hours. Show me to the engine access, let’s see how bad it is.”

===

Diana gave a little hmpf, but she smiled as she did so.  She was realizing that men, who had up until quite recently been as foreign a concept to her as the idea of a subservient woman, could actually be strange and interesting… and quite funny.  

She walked around the side of the jet and pointed around front.  ”Here you are.”

===

He found the hatch easy enough, and the moment he opened it up, yeah, he knew this was a bad idea. “It’s going to take me a month just to  _learn_  what needs to be fixed.” Bruce shook his head slightly. “I’ll book three tickets to Nepal.”

===

"A month?" Diana asked, sounding discouraged.  And then, "Nepal?"

Clark furrowed his brows.  ”I should call Perry and see if I can get any…”  He paused for a split second.  ”Oh, crap… I forgot to call in sick today.”

===

Barbara’s laugh traveled all the way from the computer platform. Apparently, she had been listening in through the comms. Bruce would have to find a way to fix that.

"Alright, let’s debrief. I need to update my files with what happened today."

"You need to go talk to my dad," Barbara said in his ear. "He’s been asking after you. Said something about case files of his own that need updating."

Bruce sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he was on the plane. “Tell him I’m on my way. Have Diana and Superman give you their statements. Keep the comms open for me, I want to hear what happened on their end. And did you—”

"What, send the anti-mutant formula to every hospital in the world?" Barbara interjected, a slight upwards inflection in her tone. "Yes, yes I did." Quieter, she added, "Though the  _world_  part was actually an accident. Whoops.”

Bruce smiled. “Good. I’ll be back when I can.” He looked over at Clark just then, like he might have something more to say. But then he was leaving the hanger, and soon the Batmobile was whisking him away.

===

Clark watched Bruce go and wondered if, just maybe… well, now wasn’t the time anyways.

He and Diana rejoined Barbara.  “‘Kay, you heard the man,” she said.  ”Go ahead and give me your statements.  I’m recording it.”  She looked to Diana.  ”Ladies first.  Go ‘head, Wonder Woman.”

Diana smiled.  ”Oh, I hope I can get  _used_  to that.”  Diana began to explain her part in the efforts of the afternoon and Clark was about to pop out for a moment to call Perry (and try to give a good hangdog expression… which would be difficult even for him over the phone), when Alfred came in with a tea tray.

"I thought you might all like a moment and a bit of a refreshment," he said.  "I trust Earl Grey is sufficient?"

"My favorite," Clark said, smiling.  Alfred handed each of them a cup and saucer and offered them warm tea biscuits.  He knew Clark would take two sugars and Barbara took a dash of milk and three sugars but how he knew Diana would take it straight was beyond Clark’s imagination.  

Diana had just taken a sip of her tea and nodded her approval when she turned to Clark and asked, “So, Nepal?  Batman never said what that was about.”

"Oh, right," Clark nodded.  "Well, it’s a little country between China and India and Ra’s al Ghul has a base there.  So…"  He paused.  "I wasn’t trying to insult your intelligence there, by the way.  I wasn’t sure…"

She smiled and waved her hand.  ”It’s fine.  Go on.”

"Well, that was it, really," he said.  "We’re trying to get to the bottom of this whole mess, and all signs point to Ra’s.  So… Nepal."

"Nepal," she echoed.

Barbara wrinkled her nose.  ”I wish I could go.”

Alfred, who had been rather quiet for some moments, guffawed.  ”I should say not.  Gotham will need you  _here_ , as will Batman.”  In response to that, Barbara munched a tea biscuit rather loudly.

===

Meeting with Gordon didn’t take as long as he thought. GCPD headquarters was absolutely swarmed along with the rest of the city. Batman spent some time working against looters on the way back. Gotham hadn’t been  _that_  destroyed, but there were always opportunists. 

Now he was back in the Batmobile, making his way home. “Sorry, it was my fault,” Bruce said over the phone. “I just thought to myself, he did such a good job with my piece, I wanted his expertise again. And hey, now you’ll be getting a first-hand account of The Battle of Gotham, too. And that Wonder Woman, did you see her? That’s gotta be good, right?”

“ _Hrmph_. Sure it’ll be. I just don’t appreciate not getting a—”

"Oh, I’m driving through a tunnel." Bruce smirked. "I’ll call you back. Lotta stuff to do. Thanks again, Mr. White!" He parked his car and disconnected the phone.

Bruce strode across the Batcave. Gotham was bleeding, and he would never not answer her screams. Yet here he was, preparing to leave her while her wounds were still fresh. It was for the best, he told himself. Ra’s was only getting warmed up.

Still, he found himself looking to Clark first, as he approached the Bat-computer. He looked away. “Perry expects a story about ‘The Battle of Gotham.’ Batgirl can get pictures for you and make them look like cell phone shots.”

"Very  _good_  cell phone shots,” Barbara added. “I took a Photoshop class last semester. Practically pro.”

"We’ll have to go to Bludhaven to get a plane ride," Bruce continued. Alfred offered him some tea, and he waved it off. "They’ve already redirected most air traffic out of the city, and no further flights are going. I can get us past the barricades on the bridges.

"Once I have Diana’s identity set up…" He let himself trail off. Alfred was giving him the Very Important Business look.

"Sir, you received a call. You are expected to appear before the Board and make a statement for the press within the hour."

Bruce’s sigh rumbled through his throat. He could make up a lame excuse and blow them off, but he also knew that the comfort it would provide for both his company and its workers would be far more beneficial than throwing a temper tantrum right now. “Fine. Just…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Batgirl, I’ll walk you through the process on the way over. Superman,  _Wonder Woman_ …Get ready. As soon as we can, we leave.”

===

Clark didn’t get a chance to thank Bruce for handling Perry because things got busy again, and he had to leave.  But one of these days, if things ever got calm again, he’d have to ask Bruce how he manged to do that so well.  That might be the easiest thing that the two of them really should discuss.

He and Diana finished giving their statements, and he left briefly to fly home and grab a few things.  Toothbrush and whatnot, a couple of days worth of clothes, his laptop (since he had a story to write), and a notebook and pens (for when the laptop wasn’t practical).

He flew back to the cave and set his backpack down on the floor as he grabbed the last tea biscuit.  ”I’m ready whenever everyone else is.”

Diana nodded and then cast a glance to Barbara, who was now sitting with her legs crossed.  Diana straightened her back and crossed her legs as well.  ”Batgirl, do you suppose that when I return from Nepal, you and I could go to look for appropriate civilian clothing together?”

Barbara smiled.  ”Definitely!  Absolutely.”

===

Barbara was a fast student. It helped that Bruce had designed the system to basically do most of the work itself, though. He left her instructions to make three, the first of which Diana would take with her to Nepal, and on his way back from the circus he stopped for a quick purchase of clothes for her to board the plane with. He had no idea what her tastes were, but he could guess her numbers and since they were all going to fly first class, business casual it was.

Alfred had stayed behind to pack for him. There was also an extra bag for Diana waiting by the grandfather clock. “Master Bruce,” he said, and everything else that came after was in his eyes.

"I’ll be back," Bruce reassured.

Alfred started nodding his head. “Last time you said that, it was four years before I saw you again.”

"I know." He clasped Alfred on the shoulder, then ducked into the staircase for the Batcave.

Bruce did not like the prospect of sharing his civilian identity with Diana. He didn’t even like having to leave Diana and Clark alone together, Barbara notwithstanding, because he could still hear Clark’s strained voice and could still imagine the man’s pain after their visit to the Sahara. Sure, they worked together well enough, but he was honestly waiting for the hammer to drop between the two of them.

"Diana, clothes," he said, holding out the bag to her. "We leave in half an hour."

===

Diana looked at the bag and reluctantly accepted it.  ”Oh… thank you.”  She went into the changing area and put on a dark blue pencil skirt, a white Peter Pan collared button down blouse, and black pumps.  ”This is… constrictive,” she said finally.

Clark shrugged.  ”But you look the part.”  He was used to wearing clothes that didn’t fit comfortably or particularly flatter him.

His eyes followed Bruce, and he couldn’t help but think that he looked… weighed down.  All of this must have been exhausting every physical resource he had, yet he’d soldier on… because that was what he did.  He wasn’t sure if Bruce was looking his way, but he gave him a soft smile.

===

Bruce pulled out a Manila envelope from a filing cabinet. “This is yours,” he said to Clark, handing it over. “Your identity for the trip. We look close enough; it’ll pass.” It was, in fact, one of Bruce’s seventeen that he had for himself. It came with a passport, Maine state driver’s license, wallet, two credit cards, a gym membership, $200 in cash, and pictures of a dog.

===

"You’ve thought of everything," Clark said, looking quickly at the contents of the envelope.  "Cute dog."

===

"Found it on the Internet, let’s go. Batgirl, keep me updated on Gotham."

Barbara nodded. “You got it. Do I get to sleep here?”

Bruce didn’t answer. He lead the way up and out of the Batcave, wondering at which point would be a good time to tell Diana about what he saw in the Arkham gardens. It was a gamble between doing it on the plane and giving her a day to come to terms with her emotions on the subject, or doing it in Nepal and hoping it wasn’t depression she felt at the news. Either way, he still didn’t cherish the idea of telling her at all. But he knew it had to be done.

He grabbed the two bags still left by the grandfather clock, then took the keys from Alfred on his way out the door. He’d need the distraction of driving, however minor it was. Bruce didn’t quite feel like he left the battlefield yet.


	10. Chapter 10

As they rode along in the car, Clark fielded a barrage of text messages from Lois which began with her casually asking where he was, got a little accusatory, and ended with her calling  him a weasel.  He didn’t bat an eye… he was used to it.

"So that’s your telephone?" Diana asked.  

Clark raised an eyebrow at the thought of her knowing what a telephone was, but said nothing on the subject.  ”Yes, it is.”

"I thought they were used to  _talk_  to people,” she commented.

Clark smiled.  ”They are.  I was talking to a friend.  I was sending  _text_  messages… I type them, and my friend read them on her phone and responded.  And so on and so forth.”

"Seems like it would be far simpler to speak to a person," Diana said, cocking her head curiously. 

"Not with this particular person," Clark said with a little smile.  Then, to Bruce, he simply said, "Lois."  The man had probably assumed as much anyways… unless his mind had flicked back to the day in his office and the index card with Hayden Marx’s phone number.

Clark sighed to himself, almost imperceptibly. 

===

Bruce just made a sort of acknowledging sound. He was thinking about how they were going   
to approach Ra’s’ compound, what they were going to do if what they were looking for, whatever master plan Ra’s had, wasn’t there. He remembered almost everything about his time there, though it was all over six years ago now. No telling what had changed.

===

Once he had gotten Lois calmed down, he put his phone away.  The rest of the car ride was mostly quiet, except for when Diana would make a comment about the things she saw outside.

Clark eventually looked out the window, too… and he briefly wished he head brought something to read.  Well, it was too late now… and anyways, he had the first two Harry Potter audiobooks on his phone as well as a couple of very stupid and time consuming games.

They soon arrived at the airport.

===

It was yet another circus; they weren’t the only ones who thought of using Bludhaven to get out of the area. When they went through the security checkpoint — through the fast lane, of course, he wouldn’t suffer the 45 minute stand in line — Bruce had to go into a back room on account of his brace, but he had expected that. They asked him to pull it off, gave him the privacy he requested to do so. Then it was looked over and handed back to him.

Bruce was out in short enough time, slipping back into loafers and wheeling his bag after him. He tried  _not_  to look like he was out for blood. Thankfully, Brucie was easy enough to slip into.

"A23," the ticket read for their gate. Bruce made a bee line for it.

===

"So," Diana began.  Clark raised a brow and she repeated, "So.  This is… crowded."

He nodded.  ”Airports typically are, and there are… extenuating circumstances right now.  People are dying to get away from the area.”

"And why did they take Bat—" she began.

"Don’t say that out loud," he cautioned.

She sighed.  ”I apologize.  My intention was not… I simply do not know what I am supposed to call the two of you.”

"For now, I’m Cameron," Clark replied.  Cameron Collins, he recalled.  And he had been a bit sneaky and peeked at Bruce’s ticket as well… and he had seen that it was issue to Jack Moretti.  "And he’s Jack."

"Cameron and Jack," Diana repeated, sounding slightly unconvinced.  Well, there was nothing either he or… Jack could do about that now, he supposed.

When he looked up, the third member of their little trio was headed back to the gate to join them.  Diana could now direct her questions to him, though he almost felt he ought to warn her not to expect answers every time.

===

Bruce wasn’t sure if the waiting was doing him more harm than good. On his phone he went about checking news source after news source, skimming blogs and reading Barbara’s far more efficient updates. She was rightfully cataloging all of the damages, particularly to buildings and families. And Bruce really wanted to  _punch_  something. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe _._ It didn’t relieve his tension completely — he doubted if anything ever would — but for the next 31 hours, it was good enough.

"Ladies and gentle we are now accepting priority and first-class boarding for gate A-23, flight 537, Bludhaven to Seoul."

Bruce put his phone away. For the first time since they left, he looked at Clark and Diana. His eyes lingered on Clark before he took his place in the short line that had been forming. They weren’t going to be sitting next to each other, not with how late their tickets had been booked. He told himself he should be happy about that.

===

It was strange.  Bruce gave him this look, and he felt something like protectiveness rise in him.  He knew that Bruce didn’t need to be protected, and they were all dealing with the problem at hand as well as they could.  But still… he’d have liked to make it so Bruce never had to look worried and concerned like that again.  But even Superman had his limits.

He lined up behind Bruce and Diana lined up behind him, and they looked like stair steps.

When he realized that they wouldn’t be sitting together, he briefly considered popping out of the line to go buy a Double Shot or something… because as much as he was already set against falling asleep again, he really couldn’t if he had a stranger beside him.  But there wasn’t time to leave now… and they’d probably offer coffee and whatnot on the plane.  He’d never flown first class though, so that was just a guess.

===

Brucie was a ray of sunshine from the moment someone started talking to him. He figured they had enough trouble with the influx of passengers on top of their usual expectations, to be honest. The least he could do was say his  _pleases_ and  _thank yous_  and flirt with the hostess that helped him stow his bag. She was an older gal, probably already in a relationship, so he was lighthearted and made it clear it was all in good fun.

And then a woman sat two rows in front of him, in Clark’s spot. Bruce felt a wave of dread swell up inside him. He really hope she was just being incorrigible, and not that the tickets had been messed up.

===

Clark noticed that a woman was sitting in the seat he’d been assigned on his ticket.  He double checked and yes, that was  _his_  seat.  No mistake about that.

He waved and got the hostess’s attention and said quietly, “Ma’am I think this lady is in my seat.”  He showed her his ticket and she furrowed her brow.  Then she went to the woman in Clark’s seat and asked to see her ticket.

"Oh, dear," the hostess said, shaking her head.  "I’m terribly sorry, but there’s been a mistake.  We seem to have overbooked the flight… I’m sure you heard about all that  _nastiness_  in Gotham City… people have been just demanding seats on the next flight  _anywhere_ … there must have been some confusion.”

"I see," Clark replied.  He would have left… after all, he didn’t need a plane to get from place to place.

But another hostess near the front of the plane spoke up.  ”I think you’re in luck.  We had a last minute cancellation in seat 5-A.”

Clark looked up and saw that sitting in seat 5-B was the very troubled Mr. Jack Moretti.  He sighed… there was no other way… and Bruce would just have to be troubled and deal with it for once.

He took his seat and gave Bruce a weak smile and said,  ”Hey.”

===

"You can have the window," Bruce said, standing from his spot. He watched Diana glance at them. She picked up what to do very quickly from those around her. Though even in First Class, there was barely enough room for her legs.

===

Clark shrugged.  ”Fine by me.”  He slipped past Bruce and into his seat.  He looked over at Diana, who was sitting uncomfortably, almost sideways.  He glanced up at Bruce and motioned for him to go ahead and take his seat.

===

Bruce snorted faint enough that it would only be Superman that heard him. He did not take  _orders_  about what to do with himself, and just to spite Clark, stood for a second longer, pretending he was interested in something else.

But then he was sitting, of course, waiting for the rest of the airbus to be boarded. Bruce was uncomfortably aware of the situation he was in. Would Clark try talking to him about what had happened between them? Would Clark even try talking to him at all, really? They were fine, when the world needed saving.

A group of 21 Girl Scouts filtered past them, chattering among each other like so many parakeets in a tree. Their purses and bags kept bumping or brushing against those already seated. It was clear they had more excitement than common decency left, but Bruce just frowned and endured. This was probably punishment for something.

===

Clark couldn’t help smirking and shaking his head (and rolling his eyes, truth be told) at Bruce not taking his seat.  This was a man who could be dying in the street and would still have a smartass remark to prove a point… and Clark recognized that that should have driven him a bit crazier than it did.

Clark watched the Girl Scouts excitedly file past and smiled to himself.  They were cute… and Bruce was so annoyed by them that he looked like his head might possibly explode.  Somewhere along the way, Clark had picked up on the difference between his “actual calm” face and his “need to appear calm” face, and it was in his eyes.  When he was just pretending, his eyes looked… tense somehow.  Clark didn’t really know how to describe it.

He thought about the most extreme version of that “need to appear calm” face… and how Bruce’s left eye twitched, just a little.  You’d barely notice if you weren’t watching closely.

Not that Clark watched closely…

He laughed to himself, because the whole situation was pretty ridiculous.

===

"Is something funny, Mr…?" Bruce asked, turning his head to Clark.

===

"Collins," Clark supplied.  "Cameron Collins."  Then he smiled.  "And I was just, uh, admiring their… youthful exuberance."

Then he asked, “Oh, where are my manners?  I didn’t even ask your name.”

===

Bruce narrowed his eyes.  _Youthful exuberance_ , his ass. Clark was making fun of him. His lips twitched upwards very briefly.

"Just call me Jack," he said. And then, because apparently they were going to play this game, "Ever flown International before?"

===

Clark smirked.   _Alright, Jack_.

"I have, actually," he replied.  "I fly a lot for business.  You?"

===

"Pleasure." Bruce had his phone out again. He kept the screen so Clark could see, too. "Who do you work for?"

===

Clark’s eyes moved down to Bruce’s phone.  ”I’m actually with  _National Geographic_ ,” he said.  It might have been fun.  ”I’m a… photographer.”

===

 _How’s D doing_? he had typed out on NotePad. He couldn’t see past the eternal file of people. “Really? I’d imagine that’s a fun job.”

===

"It is… I’m still surprised they pay me for it," he said.  Then he reached into his pocket and said, "Would you excuse me for just a second?  Have to get to this."

 _She’s calm, but she looks like a deer caught in headlights_ , he quickly typed on his phone, which he was now holding so Bruce could see it.

"So you said you travel for pleasure… you like to hit all the touristy places?" he asked.

===

"Hate crowds." He put his phone away. "I like to go to quiet places. Now if only I could get a quiet flight, too."

===

Clark smiled.  ”There are few things quite so enjoyable as a quiet flight.”  He sat forward and opened the sudoku app on his phone.

===

And that was music to Bruce’s ears. Not that he minded the conversation, but he didn’t want to keep that game up the whole flight. Later, when most of the people were plugged into their headphones or otherwise busy, they would have the opportunity to talk more freely.

Bruce leaned back in his chair. It finally felt like his adrenalin was wearing off, or maybe it was the shock of it all that was finally dissipating. But when he closed his eyes he saw Abominations retching up bile and blood, and with a sigh he opened them again. This was going to make sleeping near impossible, he just knew.


	11. Chapter 11

Clark ran his hand through his hair and exhaled some combination of a sigh and yawn.  He was actually pretty tired… but a crowded plane wouldn’t be the ideal place for… whatever it was that was going on with him.  

The pilot soon came on the PA system and said they’d be taking off shortly.  They were given the safety speech and had the emergency procedures recited for them.  He glanced over at Diana, who still looked quite lost.  Well, there was nothing he could do for her now.  With any lucky she’d sit back and relax.  Maybe  _she_  could get some rest, at least.

He returned his focus to the puzzle on his phone, but his eyes were getting a little bit hazy… and sudoku was not helping.

So instead he started thinking about the cat that had been hanging around the alley behind his building and how he swore to himself he wasn’t going to name it… but if he was to name it, he’d probably call it Sonny.  

By the time they were in the air, he had decided what color collar would have looked best and where he’d keep the litter box… if he had been the type of person who had time for a cat.

But… it was probably better to think about the cat he couldn’t have than everything else that he couldn’t have, despite how close it was.  Because now was simply not the time to indulge  _those_ thoughts, and he wouldn’t do it.

===

The first of the in-flight movies,  _Now You See Me_ , started playing about 20 minutes in. Every seat had headphones to the side for the audio, but subtitles were also on the screen. Bruce just read their lips. _  
_

"You should check on Diana," he was going to say, except when Bruce cast his gaze in her direction he saw she had started what looked like a great conversation with the woman sitting next to her. Bruce didn’t know exactly what was being said — they were at too much of an angle — but, well, Diana no longer looked lost. That was good.

So instead he just got a small cup of water from the passing cart.

"And you?" the hostess asked Clark.

===

"Um, a Coke?" he asked.  He wasn’t exactly thirsty, but it couldn’t hurt to take it.

He contemplated watching the movie, and he did look every few moments or so, but he wasn’t particularly interested.

===

By the time  _Now You See Me_  finished, Bruce was convinced he never wanted to see another movie again.

He had to wonder how many people actually saw the symbolism behind the use of money in the movie. Particularly at the end bit there, with the final act. That was a very nice metaphor. But barring that, 90% of it he saw coming, so all that was left was to pick out the mistakes in filming. For example, the boom mic being visible in car windows, or extras in the background suddenly being replaced between shots. It was hard to enjoy that way.

Dinner came around shortly after. Bruce had ordered vegetarian for all of them, he remembered. He looked at Clark as the trays were set down in front of them, hoping that he hadn’t screwed something up with this.

===

He looked up when he saw dinner coming.  Food.  Food would be nice.

When the trays were set before them, Clark nodded his approval.  ”This looks promising,” he said.  He wasn’t very picky, but it did at least smell pretty good.

===

"The vegetarian options are almost always better, though it depends on the airline. With that being said, never fly coach on British Airs. Always try to get at least business class if you can." Bruce let his eyes flick up and down. He really wanted to know what Clark looked like in a suit that properly accentuated every—

"Though it looks like you can," he said hastily, quickly averting to his food.

===

Clark nodded at Bruce’s advice on airplanes and airplane dinners and tucked his napkin into his lap.  He noticed something about the way Bruce looked at him… something that made him want to lick his lips and scoot a little closer.  Something that had him wanting to issue an open invitation.  

But whatever it was seemed to pass over Bruce quickly, so Clark let it pass over himself almost as fast.

"I almost never have trouble flying comfortably," he said with a little smile and shrug.  And that was true.

===

Bruce snorted. “Of course.” He’d have said something about how much he  _didn’t_  like flying, but he liked to think he made that point pretty clear by now. Though flying in an airplane was different than having to rely on one person not to drop him. He’d rather the former than the latter any day.

===

After dinner, things were quiet and calm again.  Perhaps too quiet and definitely too calm, because Clark could easily see himself resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder (which would be bad) and drifting to sleep (which would be worse).

Clark glanced out the window and smiled when he realized where they were.  ”Hey,” he said excitedly but quietly, tapping Bruce’s arm.  ”I don’t suppose you could see it from here, but I have a… sort of a place down there.”

===

Bruce looked up from his phone. He glanced around them, looked out the window. They were flying over the polar ice caps now. Most of the people were asleep.

"You have a place," he began in a hushed tone, "in the arctic."

===

"Yeah," Clark replied, ignoring the undercurrent that plainly said that Bruce found that to be in the top ten most ridiculous things he’d ever heard.  "It’s a sort of… home away from home."  He shrugged.  "I call it the Fortress of Solitude," he went on, hushed.

===

That shot an eyebrow up to his hairline. “I take it you don’t get many visitors there. How long have you had it?”

===

"Well, no, I don’t," he replied.  He’d never had a visitor there.  His parents probably couldn’t tolerate the trip (or the extreme cold, at their age) and who else could he trust?  It wasn’t that he wouldn’t like to show it to someone who…

He sighed.

"I’ve had it for a few years now," Clark said.  "I did a lot of my training there… where I didn’t have to worry about someone popping up at the wrong moment."

===

"What about thermal imaging?" Bruce asked. "How do you keep it hidden from satellites?"

===

Clark shrugged and smirked.  ”I have my ways.  You’re not the only one who knows a thing or two about a thing or two.”

===

 _Both_  eyebrows were up now. “Clark,” he said louder than he expected. Bruce glanced around, made sure no one had heard him. “What  _ways_? What do you have down there?”

===

Clark shrugged.  Then, giving Bruce a smile designed to infuriate, he said, “I  _have_  lots of things.  Nothing that should worry  _you_.”

===

Bruce chest rose and fell once. It was all he needed to keep himself from fuming in his seat, but he was very aware that his eyes still simmered. “What  _things_.”

===

Clark snorted a quiet little laugh.  ”Alright, slugger, calm down.”  He looked at Bruce with one raised eyebrow and said, quite low, “It’s Kryptonian tech.  Most of it was pre-programmed into the place’s security systems when it was built.”

===

Kryptonian tech, Diana’s invisible jet. Even  _Kasnia_  had a damn space ship holed away. Why did everyone else get all the cool toys?

"Hmph." Bruce slumped back in his seat. "And I suppose it built itself, too."

===

Clark smiled, a bit wickedly.  ”Well, as a matter of fact…”

Bruce was practically pouting.  It was hilarious… and kind of adorable.

===

"You’re joking. No, of course you’re not." He had to fight down an overwhelming urge to ask to see it. It was the Fortress of Solitude, not the Fortress of Ask-People-Over-That-Made-Out-With-You-And-Then-Ran-Away. 

Bruce frowned. He went back to reading.

===

Clark smiled to himself and took out his phone again and opened the Dumb Ways to Die app.  He decided he needed something a little more lively than sudoku, because now, with a full stomach and the satisfaction of having flustered  _Mr. Moretti_ , he was feeling a little… hazy eyed.

He wondered how Bruce could keep himself awake so long.  Clark knew he didn’t need sleep the same way most people did, but still.  He got tired… and he was tired now.  He could do with a bit of a sunbathe, but that was hardly an option now.

Yep, he was kind of sleepy.

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy… so heavy… and so was his head.  

His eyes drifted closed and his head slumped down onto Bruce’s shoulder before he could stop it from happening.

===

Bruce saw it coming. He really did. He just expected Clark to consciously make the decision to fall asleep on the window, or ask for a pillow and kick his chair back. That’s what Bruce had planned, anyways, if he could get past the nightmares.

Clark was asleep on his shoulder. Bruce swallowed and tried to focus on the words. He was actually kind of uncomfortable, pressing into his bones like that. Bruce tried to shift himself without waking Clark. When he realized it wasn’t going to happen, he gave up and plugged his phone in to charge.

One of the plane’s hostesses, making her rounds to check on passengers, stopped when she saw Clark sleeping like that. “Would you like me to wake him?” she asked quietly.

"It’s fine," Bruce replied, smiling broadly. He wondered if Clark even knew what he had done. He wondered if Clark thought about what had happened almost as much as he did.

 _God, I’ve been wanting this_ so  _long_ , Clark had said. Bruce did not appreciate the flush those words brought to him, the kind that went straight to his groin. He needed to think of something else, anything else. What was Diana doing? How were they getting from the airport to Ra’s last known location? What if Ra’s had alien tech?

 _Wherever you want me_.

Bruce clenched his jaw.

===

It was strange… his body should have been sending distress signals — wake up„, this is going to be a problem — but it wasn’t.  He had felt kind of safe.

But then he felt Bruce moving, trying to squirm away.  That was when he realized…

His eyes came open and he sat up as straight as he could and moved back.  ”Oh, God… sorry.  I just…” He wanted to say more, but he was too embarrassed just yet, so he just shook his head.  ”Sorry.”

Bruce would probably think he had done that on purpose… and he blushed to think how pathetic Bruce must find him.  But it wasn’t like that.  He’d just been… tired.  He was almost afraid to look at Bruce, because if his face held pity or annoyance…

He closed his eyes and sighed.

===

Bruce gave him a thoughtful look. “Nightmares?”

===

"Yeah," he said slowly, a bit hesitantly.  "How could you tell?"

===

"The symptoms are generally universal. That being said, if you want to try sleeping, I brought kryptonite."

===

"Sleep, die… what’s the difference, besides the duration?" Clark asked, raising an eyebrow but smirking.  "Y’know, it’s like I’m still in a dream… one where I’ve got my own personal comedian."

===

Bruce gave him an appraising look. “I meant if you started thrashing. Obviously I wouldn’t expose it long enough to kill you, just enough to keep you from punching a hole in the plane.

===

"I’m fine," Clark said, probably a bit harsher than he meant.  "Good to know you carry it with you, though."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  Bruce was trying to be helpful… in his way.  It wouldn’t make matters any easier to bark at him.

"Sorry," he added.  "I just… the whole thing has me a little out of sorts."

===

Bruce had to consider that. He wasn’t a psychologist and he was probably as far away from a therapist as he could possibly get, but that didn’t mean he was unaware of how these things worked. He had been there himself, and he listening to Clark now, he wanted to help. He just needed to approach this rationally and logically, to keep it from getting messy.

"Tell me about it," Bruce said formally.

===

Clark looked a bit skeptical.  It wasn’t that he doubted that Bruce was concerned, because that sounded genuine enough… he was just afraid of putting himself out there and having Bruce grunt or hmm or nod and nothing more.  He was afraid of having something else in the air between them… there were enough elephants in the room and he could barely breath as it was.

But it did seem like talking about might at least make him feel a little better.  Less tense, perhaps.

It was worth a shot.

"It started with the… thing at the Saharan colony," he began.  "The dreams… I can hear and see and feel all of it in vivid detail.  More vivid than when it actually happened."  He looked down at his hands.  "I don’t know if you can imagine what it’s like to actually clearly hear a heart stop beating… just… ba boom, ba boom… nothing."  He nodded to himself.  "It’s a little unnerving.  But to hear it happen about sixty times in less than a minute…" His voice trailed off and he sighed deeply.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back and sighed again.  It may actually have been a bad idea to start talking about it.  Because now… it felt fresh again, and he felt weak.  Weaker than ever.

===

No, no he did know what that was like. And for the first time since he met Clark, he felt pity for him having such extraordinary powers.

"I’m sorry you had to go through that," Bruce said. He almost reached out with his hand. Instead, he tilted his head towards Diana. "Do you…?"

===

"I haven’t said anything to her," he answered.  "She knows about the nightmares, though.  I fell asleep on her jet and scared her."  He sighed once again as he cast a glance in her direction.  She was asleep now, looking quite angelic, and before she’d slept she seemed to be having the time of her life.

"I’m… uh… pretty sure she’s not having the same problem," he said, looking at Bruce.  "Guess she’s just… tougher than I am."

===

"Raised in battle," Bruce said. "She’s probably just used to it." He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not, knowing Clark wasn’t making an association between what happened and Diana. It meant they’d be able to work together, that much was for sure. That was the most important part.

"You should get some rest. You can ask for a pillow and lay your chair back. I’ll keep watch."

===

"No, really, I’ll be fine," he said, shaking his head.  "I’ll feel better once we land and I can get some fresh air… sunlight.  I’m okay."  

He looked up at Bruce and tilted his head slightly.  He really was concerned… which was nice.  ”But thanks anyways,” he added.  ”You could probably use some rest yourself… you don’t need to keep yourself awake to watch me.”

===

"I don’t need sleep." It was such an automated response, Bruce didn’t even hear the words himself. They just rolled out like a fine-tuned song.

===

Clark rolled his eyes.  ”It wouldn’t exactly be a weakness if you did.”

But then he looked at Bruce, really looked, and it sort of hit him.  He just understood that whole nightmare thing too well.  As if he had a lot of experience in the area.  He wondered why he hadn’t pieced that together sooner.

"Unless of course your reasons for not needing sleep were… similar to the reasons  _I_  don’t need sleep,” he said.  And then, raising an eyebrow he amended, “Why I don’t need to sleep  _now_ , at any rate.”


	12. Chapter 12

"You’ve never had nightmares before?" Bruce asked curiously.

===

"Well, sure," Clark said shrugging.  "The odd one here or there.  But they usually feel like _dreams_ , if you know what I mean.  These are too real.”

===

Bruce nodded. Yeah, he knew. “They’ll go away, eventually, but they’ll also come back when you least expect them to. You should see a therapist if you can. Most insurance policies cover them.”

===

Clark nodded.  ”Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”  His first thought was to ask Bruce some follow up question, maybe about his own nightmares or if he saw a therapist, but he didn’t imagine he’d actually get an answer.

So instead he commented, “You know, you’re very good at deflecting.  It took me a minute to realize how quickly and skillfully you brought conversation back to me anytime I tried to steer it in your direction.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what response he was expecting, if any, but… he had to say it.

===

At first Bruce smirked ironically. Of course Clark would pick now, of all times, to be so insightful. But that quickly faded. “This conversation isn’t about me. You’re emotionally compromised, and we have a world to save.”

===

"I understand that just fine," Clark sighed.  "But we can talk, can’t we?  I mean, that’s what people do.  They have conversations. "  He pointed to himself.  "I say something about me," then, pointing at Bruce, "You say something about you, and we get to know one another.  I’d have thought that after everything we could at least have  _that_.”

And then he realized how that probably sounded and went slightly red.

"I didn’t mean that like it sounded," he rushed.  "Sorry… again."   _Always sticking my foot in my mouth and apologizing for it._

 _  
_===

 _After everything_. Bruce was still trying to get past those words. He stared at Clark as he thought about the evidence they carried, the questions they answered — and all the new questions they grew.

"Polyphasic sleep," he said after a while, returning to his phone. "I sleep in multiple smaller increments to achieve more hours awake."

===

Clark nodded and tried to beat down the guilty feeling Bruce’s stare gave him.  Because this must be how it was going to have to be.  They’d pretend nothing ever happened because, as he had been telling himself, now wasn’t the time to deal with it.

But when would it ever be the right time?  There would always be injustice, chaos, evil, all manner of utter crap… if they waited for the “right time” the discussion they both had to realize they needed would never happen… though that was probably what Bruce wanted.

"Of course," Clark said weakly.

===

Bruce glanced sideways at Clark. It was clear what the man was thinking. ”Fine,” he said. “Say it.”

===

Clark sighed.  ”Well, okay.  I just think there’s some stuff we should talk about.”  Then, with a raised eyebrow, he asked, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

===

"I don’t think there’s much left to say. The situation was very obvious." He shrugged.

===

"Are you really —" Clark began, but he cut himself off.  He took a deep breath and began again.  "Okay, sure.  I didn’t mean that I needed you to explain what happened, or what might have happened… I was there, as you’ll recall.  I just wondered if we were going to go on pretending nothing happened."

===

Bruce pulled in a long breath. He slowly, calmly, carefully turned his gaze to Clark, consciously making the effort to control every single muscle in his face so that there was nothing. He needed to do this.  _Clark_  needed him to do this.

"Yes," he said, and that was all.

===

Clark nodded.  Really, he should have seen that coming from a mile away.  ”Alright.  Good.  Now I know.”  

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his audio files until he found the first Harry Potter audiobook.  He reached into his other pocket and pulled out his earbuds.

But before he put them in, he couldn’t help going for the parting shot that he knew he was too mature to take, but he had to do it anyways.  Bruce deserved it.  Truly.  ”But, y’know, there’s one thing I want you to know before we drop the subject forever,” Clark began.  ”You really are an ass.”

===

Bruce snorted. He had seen that one coming, too.

 _Well_ , he thought, tucking his phone into his jacket and pulling out the in-flight pillow from under his seat.  _At least one of us needs to sleep_. He reclined the backrest and let his feet stretch out, closing his eyes. Bruce compartmentalized every single image that bombarded him, broke them down bit by bit until there was nothing left but raw facts and notes on how to fight better next time.

The whole while, he turned from side to side. He wanted to sleep on his left, but that meant putting his back to the rest of the plane. Yet he couldn’t get comfortable sleeping on his right, though every time he tried switching back to his left anxiety would curl through his chest like a boa constricting his heart. Eventually he turned on his right and stayed there, willing himself to sleep.

&&&

Bruce woke with a start once the pilot made the landing announcement for Seoul. It was spoken in three languages: Korean, Mandarin, and English. The Mandarin was what woke him.

He was up and fully conscious in half a second. “What time is it?” He looked around for Diana.

===

"Well, it’s 5 PM our time," he said, checking his phone.  "Which I believe makes it 7 AM here."  He put his earbuds and his phone back in his pocket and glanced over to Diana, who was having a friendly looking discussion with the person sitting next to her.

"God, is going to be good to get out of this plane," he said, stretching his long arms over his head, sleeves inching up and showing his wrists.

===

"We still have three hours left." He frowned at Clark. Why couldn’t he have just worn a mask like everybody else? Why did he have to insist that his clothes— never mind. The subject was done.

They landed shortly enough, and from there it was over to their connecting flight in to Nepal. That plane was so small there was no First Class. There was Coach and Business, and only two Business seats had been open. Bruce had put himself in Coach, figuring Clark and Diana would appreciate the extra leg room, but now he really wished he hadn’t.

But still, he was only one in his row. That was nice. He purchased time on the airplane’s wifi and did his business with Wayne Enterprises and Barbara during the flight.

===

Clark was genuinely relieved not to be sitting next to Bruce on the connecting flight.  He knew he had brought it on himself, should have foreseen the whole house of cards falling down around him, but still, he had tried… and failed.  That was the nature of this relationship, he tried and he failed and Bruce judged silently.

But at least in his seat with this stranger, he didn’t have to stare straight forward and try not to show that he felt like he’d swallowed a handful of marbles.

Every so often, he glanced over at Diana, who was just two rows up from him and on the opposite side of the aisle.  Throughout this whole trip, he’d been expecting to see her experience some kind of culture shock, but she was taking it like a champ.  Good for her.

He went back to his phone and made a few notes for the story he was writing so he could make good use of the time.

===

They touched down in the Tribhuvan International Airport a half-hour ahead of schedule. There was already a rental car waiting for them past baggage claim.

"I never want to fly like that again," Diana said, getting in the front seat. Bruce shrugged his eyebrows at her. After 31 hours, he didn’t even want to  _look_  at an airplane.

"I’ve got a place where we can change," he said.

===

Clark had to agree with Diana.  He’d just as soon never get on a plane again.  He slid into the backseat of the car and yawned briefly.  This whole act of flying commercial and using cloak and dagger to protect an identity was a bit tiresome.

===

Bruce took them to a single-room cottage well outside city limits. It rightfully looked like it hadn’t been touched in years and was furnished to match. A couch, a bed, a spartan kitchen and some non-perishables behind false walls in the cupboards. The place didn’t even have heating apart from the fireplace. It was, at best, run-down.

Bruce went straight to setting up his maps on the dining table. “We’ll need to do some scouting first, see what exactly has changed.” He glanced up at Clark. “We can’t assume Ra’s doesn’t know you’re coming with me, though he will undoubtedly assume I will want to face him alone. Which I will, if given the chance.”

He pointed to a valley. “Here is Ra’s’ last known base of operations. It’s about evenly split between surface and underground.”

===

Clark studied the map on the table.  He was just about to offer to go out and scout now, because he could really use a chance to get outside and get some sun, but Diana spoke up first.

"You know, I hardly suppose your Ra’s is going to be expecting  _me_ ,” she said, standing with her hands behind her back and her head tilted.

===

"He would expect you. He’d call himself a fool if he didn’t also expect Green Lantern and Flash, too. It may be unlikely, but he’d prepare for it anyways."

Bruce went into his bag, removed a strip of cloth — or perhaps it was cardboard minus the board — and pulled out a camouflage cape. “But I take it you’ve been scouting before.”

===

Diana nodded.  ”I have.”

===

"Good. You’ll come in from the north mountain, there’s more foliage there. Drop me off here." Bruce pointed to the map. "Superman, you’ll stay up high, above the clouds. Use your vision to give us an overview of the compound. Just remember to see past the false ground, his rooftops look like the valley floor."

===

"Can do," Clark said with a nod.

Diana cocked her head.  ”And you shall go in here alone?  I assume you do not hear the way Superman does… how am I to alert you of danger?”

Clark looked to Bruce with one brow raised.

===

He already had a communicator held out for Diana. “It sits inside your ear. This part sticks out, touch it when you want to talk to us. Can be a bit to get used to.”

===

Diana raised her eyebrows as she took the device.  ”Thank you.”  She situated it inside her ear and adjusted her earring slightly.  ”Well, this is an odd feeling.”  She touched it a few times to test it.

Clark smiled.  ”Yes, but it comes in handy.”

===

Clearing his throat, Bruce picked up his bag. “I’ll get myself changed outside. Diana.” He nodded to her and moved outside.

Bruce went around to the far side of the house. He unlocked the cellar door, stepping down into the darkness and lighting a candle to see by. The uniform he had packed was lighter than usual, but in terms of equipment, he was well stocked. There was a sort of mini armory hidden down here, though admittedly, slightly outdated. He’d make it work.

Bruce licked his fingers and snuffed out the candle before returning to the surface.

===

Diana began to unzip her skirt and Clark turned around so fast that he probably appeared a blur to anyone else.  She laughed.  ”You needn’t be such a prude.  I am not modest… and besides, I _am_  fully dressed.”

Clark looked over his shoulder and saw that she was in fact wearing her uniform.  ”I’m not a prude,” he said.  ”I’m just polite.”

"You have lovely manners," Diana said with a smile in a slightly patronizing tone.

Clark rolled his eyes and did a little spin that had him in uniform.  He felt so good to be out of his civvies for a while.  He didn’t look at them as a disguise, but they were sometimes too hot and too tight.  He stretched his arms and noticed that Diana was giving him an odd look.

"…Yes?" he asked.

She hesitated.  ”Are you and Batman….” her voice trailed off.  ”You both seem tense.  Is there something…?”

Clark smiled and interrupted her.  ”We’re great.  You don’t have to worry.”

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing else.

===

"Are the two of you ready?" Bruce asked, knocking on the door. "I want to get there before the sun breaks over the eastern ridge."

===

"We’re ready," Clark said.  He stepped past Bruce and pointed up.  "I’m gonna go ahead."

Diana offered a smile.  ”Well, come on then.”  She hoisted Bruce unceremoniously up into her arms and flew off to where he had told her to drop him.

"Here you are," she said softly.

===

He was surprised to find that he didn’t mind flying with Diana as much as Clark.  _You have less to lose_ , was all his mind said. He frowned at the thought.

"Thanks. Keep in contact." Bruce pulled the camouflage tightly around him and put two fingers to his ear. "Superman? What do you see?"


	13. Chapter 13

From above, Clark saw that Diana had dropped Bruce and retreated to her assigned spot.  

He looked down and looked past the false ground, as Bruce had advised he would need to and saw that it was laid out in a fairly simple grid, though some buildings were several levels lower than others, and some were above ground.  

"There’s a little alcove in a rock facing about a hundred, maybe a hundred and five feet northeast of you," Clark said.  "It’s probably big enough for one person to squeeze through.  It leads to a little tunnel that’s a good thirty feet long and descends to a bunker down there."

===

"Air vent. There’s going to be sensors in it. Can you see the wiring from that far away? And Diana, what sort of sentries do you see?"

===

Clark squinted ever so slightly and saw the wiring pretty well.  It was pretty simply done.  ”Yeah, I can… and you could probably get the sensor down pretty easily and quickly.”

And Diana said, “There are men posted outside the door of the nearest building.  Two on each side.  They are armed… with some kind of guns.  I cannot see much more than that from here.”

===

He was going to ask how Diana knew about guns, but then he remembered,  _alien space ship_. It was going to be like walking through a pinata farm blindfolded to figure out what she did and did not know.

Bruce nodded and began working on the cover for the vent. Clark was right, it was easy enough to disable the sensor. Well, easy for Ra’s’ level of security.

"Start looking through the rest of it. Find our target, figure out what’s going on as best you can. Pamela’s involved, botanists from the Sahara are involved — it’s probably a giant plant you’re looking for," he said to Clark.

===

Clark flew over, still high enough that no one would see.  There was a series of rooms and tunnels underground that reminded him very much of the tombs in the Valley of the Kings, and not the movie this time.  In the largest and lowest chamber he saw the large plant Bruce had mentioned, and it was being guarded by six armed guards.  Outside the room, there were another three guards posted.

"There’s a whole maze like system to get down to the bottom chamber," he said.  "And you’re right about the big plant — and they’ve got her guarded like it’s made of gold.  But I can’t see yet how to get down there."

===

Bruce thought about the compound, remembered the last time he was here and what he had seen. The chamber was obviously new. “Approximately where is it from my location?”

"Batman, Superman," Diana said quickly. "There’s trouble. Something is—"

===

"What’s the trouble?" Clark demanded, turning around quickly and hurtling himself over in Diana’s direction.  

"They have this…  _thing_ , this double of…  _you_ ,” she said.  Clark’s stomach lurched as he hovered directly above her in the air, still just above the clouds.  He could see the… creature… from where he was, but only the top of its head.

"Describe it to me," Clark said.

Diana hesitated briefly.  ”He is… your height but a bit stooped over.  And his face is… he does not look the way you do.  And he is white as chalk.  And he wears a pendant of some sort… that says ‘Number One Bizarro.’  He looks like…”

"Wait, be quiet a sec," Clark said quickly and Diana hushed.  He was picking up a weird voice below.  Weird and loud and… he shuddered again.

It sounded like the… thing… was trying to get someone’s attention.  

"Nobody not talk on mountain," it was rasping out.

He felt like someone had tied Kryptonite weights to his boots.  It was like… emotional Kryptonite.

===

"What’s going on?" Bruce demanded. "Talk to me. What happened? Why is there—" he could see it, he could see the data on his computer that told him STAR Labs took a DNA sample "—someone that looks like  _Superman_?”

===

"Listen, B, you need to be very careful," Clark cautioned.  "He hears you… he’s putting up the red alert right now."

===

Bruce practically snarled as he went for his binoculars. He couldn’t see whoever they were talking about, he was at the wrong angle, there was too much else between him and the compound. He wanted to ask who, he needed information, always more information. _  
_

& &&

Ra’s sighed languidly. Of course, he knew this would happen. He wished it hadn’t come to this, he wished he had more time to develop his plans. But ever since his dear  _daughter_  decided to pay her love a visit, things needed to be…rushed. Yes,  _rushed_  was the right term for the appalling creature he had standing next to him.

"We’re  _enemies_ , aren’t we, Bizarro?” he said conversationally.

"Terrible enemies," the creature replied, shaking vigorously. It was as dumb as it was backwards.

"And you would  _never_  do a favor for me.”

"No, no, never!"

"Then please, let the ‘voice on the mountain’  _live_.”

Bizarro beamed with broken and yellowed teeth. At least he was smart enough to wait until  _after_ taking off to hit mach 1.

===

Clark saw the flash of pallid grey move in Bruce’s direction and automatically moved to stop  _it_.  He might be mad at Clark for interfering or for throwing subtlety out the window, but he could just be mad if he wanted to.  Because if there was a chance that that  _thing_  was some kind of clone or something, he might have some of Clark’s strength… and judging by his speed, he wasn’t something to be trifled with.  He couldn’t stand by and watch Bruce get hurt or worse.

He felt like he was moving in slow motion, but only a fraction of a second had passed when Clark crashed into… Bizarro just feet away from Bruce.

===

Bruce didn’t even have time to blink. The shock and the sound of two bodies colliding at mach speeds deafened him, rocking him off his feet. By the time he recovered, by the time the ringing went away in his ears, the alarm was already blaring throughout the compound.

"Diana, distraction!" Bruce barked. He didn’t get a reply, nor did he wait for one. He dropped into the vent and moved as fast as he could. Subtly was out the window, sure, but Ra’s wouldn’t play his cards until he had Batman cornered.

But with an Amazon warrior attacking his front lines, he would no doubt be hard pressed to decide which to take care of first.

===

Diana didn’t hesitate.  She charged, warrior that she was, on the guards.  They hardly saw her coming, and only one had time to react.

&&&

"Who am you?" Bizarro demanded, wrenching Clark’s arm.  Clark was barely able to break the grip and responded to the question with a punch to the creature’s grey, cracked, almost patchwork looking face.  He was even dressed like Clark, but the colors of his uniform were off and his "S" was kind of sloppy and backwards.

Bizarro hurled him into the side of the mountain and he slid to the ground with a loud thud, leaving a crater below him.  He got up and charged back at the creature and kicked him in the chest.

Bizarro was definitely very strong.  Clark was remembering being in STAR Labs and their reluctance to tell him what had happened while he was unconscious, and the data Bruce showed him that said they had taken blood samples without his permission.  The connection didn’t seem merely possible… it seemed quite likely.

 _Son of a_  —

But as Bizarro swung at him, he decided now was not the time to wonder why.

===

 _It was new, the chamber was new, they needed diggers, diggers needed space_. Bruce quickly flew through fact after fact, connecting as many dots as humanly possible. Using digging machines to build the new chamber meant the chamber was accessible from the subterranean hanger because that was the only way they could have gotten diggers in there which meant Bruce needed to—

He stopped. Back peddled. Stared through the darkness at the missile launched below him, the missiles themselves still being assembled. Their chemical warheads slowly locked into place as League assassins worked with them.

Well. That must be Ra’s’ plan, or at least part of it. Batman pulled out a pair of batarangs and went to work.

&&&

Ra’s blew into the chamber with a storm in his wake.

"Let me after her!" Macaria barked, leaping from her seat. She had been waiting for him.

Ra’s laughed. ”And what will you do, hmm? Get yourself beaten to death? If it weren’t for  _Poison Ivy_  and my men, you never would have made it off Arkham. Now move.” Ubu pushed her away from the console at the wave of a hand. “Go find that woman, if you want to be useful. She’s created a jungle around my plant and no doubt plans to slip away with it.”

Ra’s cleared his throat, watching the monitors before him. What was left of the surface cameras showed a heavenly battle raging between “Wonder Woman” and his main force. She was more than a match for them, and with her in play, he couldn’t pay proper attention to dealing with Batman.

"Ubu, direct your men to evacuate for Themiscyra. Destroy any previously existing civilization there."

"What?!" Macaria snapped. She was halfway out the door, with her jaw hanging loose in her mouth.

Ra’s gave Macaria an appraising look. “Did you think I asked for Amazon locations so I could make  _friends_  with them? You were the one who said modern civilization could do without them, after all.”

"I didn’t…" Macaria stared blankly.

"Ubu, remove her."

===

Diana was still grappling with the guards when they received the orders to move.  They spoke now, in a language she didn’t understand, but she heard them say Themiscyra clear as anything.

"What?" she demanded.  "No!"  She touched the communicator in her ear.  "They’re attacking my people!  They are moving out and I heard them say Themiscyra… I have to go."

The banishment spell the Saharan colony had evoked was still fresh on her mind.  She had to stop them from attacking her people… 

She couldn’t let the last words she had said to her mother be harsh ones.

&&&

Clark heard Diana, but he couldn’t respond.  Bizarro had his fist right in Clark’s mouth.

He wasn’t getting tired.  He wasn’t backing down.  He wasn’t giving up.

But neither was Clark.  Because he was Superman.

===

 _Fuck._  Bruce gazed over the unconscious men, took one of their radios and listened to what was happening. Diana was right. “We need you  _here_ ,” he tried saying to her.

"I will not abandon my people," Diana retorted.

"Superman needs your help! If you can stop that thing he can catch up with any of Ra’s’ planes!"

"And just how do you propose to do that?!"

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but a cool voice, as smooth as a gentle creak, broke through the PA speakers. “Oh Batman,” Ra’s al Ghul lilted, “you should really consider setting up an appointment next time. These unexpected visits of yours are becoming quite bothersome. And you brought such lovely guests with you, too, though I seem to recall — what was it you said? ‘I work alone?’ Well here, let me help you with that.”

Bruce started.  _Fuck, no_ , he needed to tell Diana before— “I have—” It was no use. His communicator had been scrambled. “Kryptonite,” he finished to himself. Diana was gone, Clark was fighting his clone — and the shadows started moving around him.

===

Clark heard the chilling voice on the loud speaker, and he knew.  This has to end, sooner rather than later.

He shot Bizarro with his heat vision, right in his chest, but it did nothing.  It almost seemed to tickle him.  He swatted at the burst of heat as if he could slap it away and lunged back toward Clark.  Clark caught hold of him and they flew higher and struggled for about a mile.  They neared the top of a mountain and Clark pulled Bizarro in, so he wouldn’t end up causing an avalanche.  But before he did that, he noticed the way the creature bristled because of the cold.  The way it momentarily shut him down.

It was a long shot, but… he had to try.

All of that practicing to be able to control his powers usually helped him be gentle, but sometimes having control meant being able to unleash everything he had.  So he let out the coldest, sharpest blast of ice breath as he could, and kept at it until… he was frozen solid.

&&&

Ubu held onto Macaria though she struggled against him. “Turn me loose at once, you animal!”

She had to do something to stop this insanity she had been a part of starting.  She had to…

She yanked free of Ubu’s grasp and pushed him back.  It was mere luck that he fell and hit his head, knocking himself unconscious.  So she ran, not for freedom, but towards that plant.

===

Macaria navigated the tunnels and chambers unsolicited. Ubu and Ra’s, it seemed, were the only ones aware of her situation. No one even paid her a second glance as she slipped into an off-duty lounging room and stole away with a forgotten lighter.

She had no idea how one of these things worked. She had only seen a man use it once before. She remembered the actions he did, she remembered the reaction the lighter had. And she had wanted, at the time, to try it. But she was carrying the plant in her arms, the one she stole from her mother, under the assumption that she would see the world.

Except it turned out that for Ra’s al Ghul,  _see_  and  _destroy_  were interchangeable.

On the elevator ride down to the cavern floor, Macaria stared out at the massive  _Máti Theoú_  before her. It was a bulbous thing, with a flower so huge and so blue it might have been its own ocean, suspended in the air. When she brought it here it had barely fit into its little clay pot. Then Ivy got her hands on it, grew it into this monstrous size. It almost broke the artificial lighting Ra’s had built into the ceiling.

Macaria considered all the wonders of Man’s World. On its own this plant was harmless, but then Ra’s took the life from its leaves and…  _alchemised_  it. She shook her head. She did not know the word.

The elevator stopped with a ragged clank. Macaria quickly ran into the jungle along a beaten path. Light filtered in through the leaves and vines of everything else Ivy brought with her. If it weren’t for the stale air she breathed, she might have thought she was back in the desert.

She stopped to gathered tinder around one of the smaller roots of the plant. With little time and less knowledge, she worked quickly to see that everything she set in motion was brought to a grinding halt.

&&&

Bruce wasn’t sure he was going to make it out alive, to be honest. He fought tooth and claw through Ra’s’ compound, but for one, he was running out of equipment. He only had so many batarangs, he only had so many smoke pellets. Of course he liberated as many shurikens and kunais from the assassins as he could, but he was easily outnumbered. He didn’t have time to aim half the weapons he had, not unless he found a nice stretch of hallway that he could burst down.

And yet, he had to win. It was illogical not to win.

&&&

Ra’s watched as the World’s Greatest Detective beat down enemy after enemy, foe after foe. A quietly smug smile worked its way across his lips. With Bizarro tending to Superman and Wonder Woman still in pursuit of the strike team bound for Themiscyra, it was only a matter of time before Batman found himself wore down and defeated. That would be a nice warm up for him before facing Ra’s.

He wondered what was going through that brilliant mind, fighting for its life in the hallways. Batman was obviously still gunning for whatever he knew about Ra’s plan. Ra’s wasn’t too keen on assuming too much or too little about Batman.

 _Superman could win,_ he thought to himself, stroking his chin. Ra’s frowned. Wonder Woman could catch up with the jets, too. He couldn’t say for certain that she wouldn’t, because she was the real wild card at this point in the game, even moreso than Batman with all his tricks.

And speaking of which, what a surprising development: Batman was gone.

"Ubu, relieve yourself of the girl and return to my side," Ra’s spoke hastily into his radio. There was no response. "Ubu," he repeated. Then, more forcefully, " _Ubu_.”

That’s when the fire alarms went off.

Ra’s whirled in his spot. “ _What?!_ " he roared out, to no one and everything. His eyes danced over the consoles around him, looking for—

The God’s Eye room was lighting up before him. The sprinklers had come on, of course, but…

Ra’s had kryptonite. Ra’s could deal with Superman. But if  _Wonder Woman_  came back, there was no telling what may happen to him. And if Batman could not be located in time…

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated it. He hated it with a passion beyond blood. He hated it with the heat of a thousand bursting stars — but if he wanted to live, he must swallow it all.

Ra’s disabled the sprinklers in the cavern, started closing off the surface air vents. He put his finger to the PA button. “ _Boziik bovul. Dir voth zin_.” With his final order given, he gathered his robes and left.

&&&

The command came barely half a minute after the fire alarms started going off. Bruce knew what it meant. It was completely illogical for him to continue on his mission.

He recalled the warheads, calculated how hot it would need to get before they cracked, spewing their contents. Then Bruce jumped when he heard an air shaft slam itself shut while passing by. It didn’t matter how hot the fire got now. They would all choke to death before it could spread so far.

Already, the sharp scent of smoke started wafting through the air. He reiterated to himself how illogical it was to remain underground.

&&&

Macaria lit everything that she could. She didn’t know where Ivy was and frankly, she didn’t care. She was on a mission now. A real, good mission. She gave it to herself, she would complete it herself, and she would look back at the blaze of glory around her, and she would let it consume herself.

But she ran.

The high ceiling were no match for the blaze she had started. Smoke was still low enough to suffocate her lungs, and every bone in her body, every aching muscle in her chest, begged for her to live.

The elevator was no longer responding by the time she gt back to it.

"Ivy," she rasped, breaking into a coughing fit. Tears had stopped coming from her eyes; it was too dry. "Ivy," she tried again, as loud as she could. No one responded. Even the League workers had long since left for the fight above.

She remembered a small pool that Ivy had grown lilies in near the back. It was the only idea Macaria had left. She stumbled through the growth, flinching away from burning plants, begging the Gods for a miracle, bargaining everything she had to see it come true. Her limbs, her tongue, her servitude — anything.

And then she tripped over a sedimentary rock, staggered through a mound of leaves as big as she was, and came across a tunnel held apart by roots.

 _It’s yours_ , she said to the heavens, and she scrambled through the dirt.

&&&

This was it, Bruce thought. This was all it had come down to. Door after door, room after room had been closed off to him. Those of League who stayed behind fought him until unconsciousness, or until they bit on their own suicide molars in desperation. It was certainly a quicker end than asphyxiation.

The smoke was palpable now. He didn’t know how big the plant was, he didn’t know how much kindling the fire had, but even without the smoke to clog his lungs there would be no oxygen left after a few short minutes.

Bruce slumped down by the last door he had found. He had to focus, he had to breath. Those were the two things he always told himself to do, and right now, more than ever before, his life depended on it. He needed to slow his heart down to less than ten beats a minute.

 _Clark_ , he wanted to say. There was more, he knew there was more, but the rest of his thoughts died with his heart beat.


	14. Chapter 14

He had wondered for a moment if Bizarro was dead.  He’d never frozen anyone alive before… and he’d also never killed anyone before, even something like that.  But as he dropped the block of ice that contained him he heard a heartbeat… and he hoped he wouldn’t find himself that desperate again.

And then he remembered that Diana had left.  But before he had time to process that thought, he heard the fire alarms… and he thought of Bruce.

 _Nope_ , he thought.   _It isn’t going to end like this_.

He flew over and x-rayed quickly.  ”Batman,” he called desperately, but the communication link was offline.  ”Bruce,” he tried again, but it was useless.   _I’ll be there_ , he thought.  That was what he’d tell him now if he could.  

He finally saw a figure slumped outside a door to one of the smallest antechambers.  As he descended, not caring that there was a serious of tunnels that could collapse if he didn’t enter in the right spot.  It hardly mattered now… the whole place was on fire.  He had to get to Bruce — and other survivors — as quickly as possible.

When he got close, he listened for heartbeats… and he heard one.  Very slow and very weak… but very familiar.

He tunneled through the false floor and a couple layers of earth till he was in a tunnel that led to the main chamber.  The smoke and flames made it hard for him to see through the walls, but he had realized when he was above that all the tunnels were connected and all led to this main chamber… which meant he could get to Bruce from there.

He listened again and followed the sound of a very shallow breath through the wall.  He dropped his cape behind him when he realized the tail had caught fire.  He burst through another wall and saw Bruce, slumped over on the floor beside the locked door separating him from one thin corridor that led to freedom.

The flames were licking the other side of the wall, so there wasn’t time to do any more than scoop the man into his arms and push the door down.  He burst through the opposite wall of the corridor and felt fresh air again.  He flew to the grass, safely away from the fire and the smoke before he had regained the ability to speak.

"Hey," Clark began softly, hoping Bruce could still hear him.  He gently lowered Bruce to the ground and sat beside him.

===

He was warm. He was thoroughly, incredibly warm, and then he was moving.

Bruce didn’t become fully aware of his surroundings until one shallow breath of mountain air prompted his lungs, which took in a larger, more gasp-like breath soon after. And then he was coughing, trying to roll himself one way but he might as well be a baby with the way his limbs flailed. His heart wasn’t catching up as fast as his body, his senses were disoriented to the point of vertigo and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t  _breathe_ no matter how many times he tried, no matter how many coughs wracked his body because there was tar in his lungs, tar in his lungs and flames on the wall and he had been wrong, so wrong, there  _was_  a source of oxygen because there had to have been, the fires weren’t choking themselves to death and—

…And in his sedated state, unconscious yet aware, Bruce realized he had accepted that it wasn’t illogical to die.

His body was too focused on getting past the smoke to panic. Bruce reached out and grabbed hold of the only thing he could, hacking up the last puffs of black air through coughs that came from the very pits of his chest. His sides hurt, one more than the other, and his face felt charred and heavy.

"Warheads," he rasped as soon as he could. His mind kept leaping around in its desperate attempt to run at full capacity on too little oxygen. "There were…fire…Diana—"

===

"Slow down," Clark said.  He hadn’t realized it until the moment he slumped down next to Bruce, but he really needed a moment and some air as well.  "Catch your breath."  Then after a split second pause, "Warheads?"  He sat upright and looked back to the compound.

===

Bruce let go of Clark as the man sat up. “Yes,” he said, panting heavily. “With the — the chemicals. Ra’s’ plan. They’re still in there.”

===

He didn’t make Bruce try to tell him anymore than that.  That was enough.  He flew back over the compound so he’d have a chance to put the fire out.  He didn’t want to take the chance that the fire would spread to the warheads and make them go off before he had a chance to get them out.  This seemed like the better way.

He had put out a lot of fires with his breath before.  Sometimes they were small car or house fires, and a couple of times there were bigger ones — in stores or factories, things like that.  But nothing like this.  And he found that it wasn’t easy to hold enough air at once to put out a fire of that size.  But after a few tries, he did it.  He blew out the flames.

He could see more clearly now.  He looked toward the main chamber and saw the warheads sitting in another little antechamber off to the side.  The drums of the chemicals were in the another antechamber across from there.  He went for the warheads first, a large collection of weapons that looked like they belonged in a World War II propaganda cartoon, and flew them out of the smoldering remains of the compound.  Then he carried the chemicals, two drums at a time, to safety as well.

Then he went back to check on Bruce.

He stood before him and asked, “Are you gonna be okay?”

===

Bruce was back on his feet. He had calmed himself in the time it took to for Clark to clear away the danger, had brought his breathing to a steady pace.

He looked at Clark, but he couldn’t hold the gaze. With a large swallow, he put his fingers to the communicator in his ear. “Diana,” he said plainly. “What’s your status?”

===

Clark took a deep breath and watched Bruce.  He was relieved to see him back to mostly normal, as normal as it could get.  It might have been nice right now to lay back down in the grass, but that was the last thing he had time for.

&&&

Diana was doing her best to keep up with the troops the League had sent out, but she wasn’t used to flying such long distances.  She wouldn’t give up, but this wouldn’t be easy.

She was relieved to hear Batman’s voice come over the communicator.  The silence from the two men had been unnerving, but she didn’t have time to go back for them.  She had to protect her people, even if that meant leaving behind those men she had fought beside.

"Batman," she exhaled.  "I am pursuing the soldiers who are going after my people.  Is Superman…?"  She couldn’t bring herself to ask how the fight had gone with Bizarro.

===

"He’s fine." Then, looking at Clark with all the stern lines of a battle that still needed fighting, he said, "Go."

===

Clark took off and flew in Diana’s direction without waiting to hear anything else.  He flew towards Themiscyra and noted to himself that even though it felt like it had been a long time, it hadn’t.  Not really.  They couldn’t have gotten very far… and it probably wouldn’t take him very long to catch up.

He saw Diana before he saw the planes.  He flew along beside her and grabbed her hand, pulling her along faster.  If she was surprised, she didn’t show it.

"Are they still headed…"

"Straight for my home," Diana supplied.   "Yes, they are."

"We’ll catch ‘em," Clark said, pulling all his confidence into his voice.  He couldn’t have her worried or scared or discouraged.  He needed her right now… just like she needed him.

"I trust you," she replied.  And it sounded like she meant it.

She didn’t slow him down very much… and he could tell she was pushing herself to go faster than she ever had.  He could feel her muscles straining and working harder, but he could also practically feel her determination… and again, he had to admire it.

It wasn’t long before they saw the first plane full of Ubu’s men.  Clark let go of Diana’s hand and hurled himself up to the craft and caught it by the tail.  He brought the plane down below him and then went back up for the second and third planes.  Diana was already on the ground, fighting the men that had spilled out of the first plane by the time Clark landed with the fourth and final one.

He didn’t have time to watch Diana out the corner of his eye to see that she wasn’t using lethal force.  The soldiers were coming at him three and four at a time, and it was all he could do to disarm them.

What had happened at the Saharan colony was still fresh in his mind, but he didn’t know how to prevent it from happening again.

He decided to start knocking them unconscious, and when he turned to tell Diana to do the same, he saw that he was joining that program in progress.  She had a collection of unconscious men at her feet.  But they were still alive, and that was all Clark could ask.

The last waive of the troops, about twenty of them, took cyanide capsules before Clark could stop them.  He closed his eyes and dealt with it as best he could.  But the men were down now.  All of them.  

Diana heaved a sigh of relief and said, “Merciful Hera.”

Clark touched two fingers to the comm in his ear and said, “Batman, Ra’s’s men are down.  Where do we go from here?”

===

Bruce watched him go. There were four words sitting on the cusp of his lips, but his tongue was nothing more than wrought iron.

His gaze shifted to the remnants of the compound not too far away. He walked one step at a time, one heavy boot in front of the other. He listened to the crunch of grass and then the click of cement. He watched the sun, fresh and bright, finally make its way over the eastern mountain. It was more like a basin than a valley, he realized. That thought had a rather peculiar effect on his emotions. He felt…uplifted. Or maybe it was just the sun.

Around him, the compound had gone through a radical change in mere minutes. What had once seemed impossibly alive was suddenly a barren, desolate tomb settling across his shoulders. Debris scraped across the cement under Bruce’s boots, the air stank of smoke and burned flesh.

He searched above ground first. These buildings had the least amount of damage. Bruce found a bathroom and stole one of the towels, wetting it in the sink first. Then he came across a radio room with all of the equipment sabotaged, and in one of the courtyards between buildings a poker game had been suspended indefinitely.

There were no bodies above ground. All those who had given themselves in favor of Ra’s making his escape had died underground.

Bruce stood in front of the gaping hole, listening to his own heart beat echo in the darkness beyond.

Clark’s voice cut through his thoughts. Bruce brought his fingers to his ear. “I’ll contact Interpol. There’s no reason they shouldn’t know what was going on. The more hunting Ra’s, the better.” He didn’t remove his fingers. Instead, he listened to the static of the distance between them. He knew what he had to do, and he knew what was stopping him from doing it. It wouldn’t work.

 _Never again_. He had told himself that before, and he’d say it to himself however many times he needed to.

"Stay with them," Bruce finished. He put the towel over his jaw and stepped inside.

===

Clark gave a nod, though Bruce wasn’t there to see anyways, and said, “Right.  Good thinking.”  He turned to Diana and said, “Batman is calling Interpol… and he thinks we should stay here.”  He realized that Bruce hadn’t mentioned Diana, but… he didn’t want to sit there alone with a pile of unconscious men and their dead comrades.

"Interpol?" she echoed.

"Oh," Clark said, realizing that he had forgotten that Diana would have probably never heard of them.  "Interpol is a sort of international police organization."  That was probably explanation enough.

Diana nodded.  ”I see.”  Then, quietly she added, “I will… take care of the fallen.”

Clark looked at her and gave a weak nod.  ”Thank you.”

Part of him wondered what Bruce was doing, and if he was really feeling as strong as he let on.  He couldn’t be… not really.  He’d have liked to say something to him, but he didn’t know what… and he knew this wasn’t the time anyways.  He decided that is was time to sit down.  That seemed about right.

===

Once underground, apprehension clamped around Bruce like a vice. Every sound had his head turning, and when there was an abrupt clash of cacophony and panic he moved quickly towards it, only to find the source was nothing more than a shelf in the kitchen falling to pieces.

Bruce continued searching through the underground, cloth to his mouth, eyes stinging from the smoke. He had to manually open every air shaft vent as he passed them; the generator had been, like all other electronics, destroyed. Every now and again Bruce would find a computer and he would pop open the tower, only to find both main and secondary memory had been taken or fried.

He found two survivors among the dead. Both bodies were badly burned. Bruce removed their cyanide molars and made his calls to both Interpol and the local authorities.

Clark hadn’t said anything to him. That put Bruce less at ease than entering a clearly unstable subterranean structure did. But Diana was still on the line with them, wasn’t she? Bruce added that to his ever-growing list of notes:  _devise private channels for communicators_.

And then he realized Clark probably had nothing to say to him anyways.

&&&

Eventually he found the room with the plant, or rather the pile of ash and woody embers that replaced it. Smoke still hung in thick clouds, but in the swirling vortexes Bruce found the source of oxygen he had been looking for: a tunnel to the surface, lined with roots.  _Ivy._

He followed it topside, though it took some wiggling towards the end. When he felt a breeze across his face, he turned his head to see none other than the Amazon from Arkham, staring at him like he had just crawled out of his grave, but seeing as how the last she saw of him, Bruce was being buried alive in a tree, that probably wasn’t too inaccurate. By her estimation.

"Are you coming to take me away?" she asked, almost curiously. "To the underworld?"

Bruce sighed. This close, he could see that there was a peculiar mismatch of her features that would put her, by Amazonian standards, a child, or young teenager.

He hoisted himself to the lip of the hole, his feet still dangling down into the vertical tunnel. “Diana, I think I found someone you’ll want to talk to.”

"Diana? Are you talking to Princess Diana?"

"You said her name was Macaria, right?"

Macaria’s jaw dropped. Bruce smirked.

===

Clark raised an eyebrow.

"You have her?" Diana asked.  "She’s alive."   _Which meant she was a traitor._   Diana sighed.

===

"Yes," Bruce replied. "Do you want to come get her?"

===

Diana looked to Clark and he nodded.  ”Go.”  

"I am on my way," Diana said.

Clark watched her take off and hoped that Interpol would come soon so that he could go and see how Diana was going to handle this.

===

Bruce watched Macaria watch him. “I was wrong,” she said after a while. Bruce continued to watch. “It’s kind of funny, in a way. When I first started talking to al Ghul, he mentioned you. I thought to myself, ‘What could a bat-man possibly look like?’ Of all my mental images,  _this_ I didn’t see coming.”

"You have a lot of explaining to do," he said in return.

Macaria’s humor faltered. “Yeah. I know.” She hugged her legs. “What’s gonna happen to me?”

Bruce blinked. He had no idea.

&&&

A wordless conversation passed between Diana and Macaria when she arrived. Macaria was quick to her feet, but bowed her head just as fast.

"Thank you, Batman," Diana said to him. Bruce nodded. He wanted to know what would become of Macaria just as much as Macaria did, yet by now, he was as tired as the day was young.

"I will need to leave this with you," Diana added, holding out the communicator. "My mother…"

"It’s alright," Bruce said quickly. He didn’t know where that was going and frankly, he didn’t  _want_ to know. “Safe trip.”

Diana smiled. “Maybe we’ll meet again, hm?”

"We’ll see." He barely watched the two leave.

Bruce sank to the ground. He was really, really tired. “Clark,” he said shortly.

===

He had just finished dealing with the people from Interpol when he heard Bruce’s voice speak his name.  He was speaking to Clark,  _not_  Superman… and that made a difference somehow.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.  Bruce’s voice sounded tired… Clark hoped that was the only problem.

===

"Ra’s is gone, Ivy’s gone, I have an invisible jet parked in my hanger…" He considered the words and shrugged his brows. "Actually, the last one’s not so bad."

===

"Okay, let me rephrase that," Clark began.  "Are  _you_  okay?  And give me an actual honest answer, not some evasive Batman remark.”

===

Bruce puffed out a breath with a smile.  _You really are an ass_ , Clark had said, not even a day ago. And yet here he was, being, well, Superman. Bruce could draw a thick, fat line between his life and Batman. He suspected that if he tried to draw Clark’s line, he’d only end up drawing Clark’s face.

A sigh passed through his lips, and then he was back on the comm. “I get nightmares the same as you, to answer the question you never actually asked me, back on the plane. So there. Now you owe  _me_  one.”

===

Clark smiled to himself.  ”Ignoring the fact that we’re far from even, Mr. Secretive… I’ll give you one.  What do you want to know?”

===

"Not that far." Or at least, Bruce liked to think so. He frowned.

"How mad are you?" The  _at me_  dangled from the end of the sentence.  _I was wrong_ , he heard Macaria say in his head. How could a child have more courage than him?

===

Clark sighed.  He was… honestly amazed that that was what he was asking.  Part of him wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that fake, charming voice come on and ask him some fake, charming question.

He did that when things got too real, Clark realized.

"Honestly," he began, "I’m probably not as mad as I should be.  I don’t have the energy for it."

===

"Ah." Bruce turned the comm off to work a ball of spit down his throat. It wouldn’t— of course this would be the worst time to ask. He berated himself for thinking or rather, for  _not_  thinking. Clark needed sleep, relaxation,  _therapy_. Bruce needed to get to work on finding Ra’s’ new location. Right now was the  _last_  time to ask  _that_  question.

"Not mad enough to leave me stranded on a mountainside, right?" he said instead.

===

Clark couldn’t help smiling a little bit.   _Damn him._   That was not what he thought it was going to be… but that was…

He really should have been mad.  He was actually starting to feel a bit mad at himself that he wasn’t a little madder.

He didn’t answer.  Not with words anyways.  Not yet.  He took off and soon landed some feet away from Bruce.

"Y’know, I could  _almost_  call you a melodramatic man,” Clark said.  He smiled and raised an eyebrow when he continued, “You didn’t have to go through that whole show to get me to come pick you up.”

===

When Bruce didn’t get a reply right away, he figured what would happen and hauled himself to his feet. “I need to be sure about these things. One angry slip-up at Mach 4 and that’s it for me.” His smile was cocky and his tone was teasing, just for Clark.

===

"And you’d do well to remember that," Clark replied playfully.

===

"I remember everything."

Bruce had to kill a yawn just then. His mind had skipped ahead of him and, well. “Cottage first,” he said out loud. “Bags, then home. Jack Moretti and Cameron Collins will have to remain in Nepal for the foreseeable future.”

===

"Got it," Clark said.  He scooped Bruce up and zipped them back to the cottage.

===

Bruce barely had time to relax his back muscles before they were on location at the cottage. He gathered up their things, visited the armory to make a final note about what needed restocking and/or updating. Then he was back outside and he approached Clark.

"However you want to carry this," he said, holding out the bag.

===

Clark took the bag and said, “No trouble.”  He held the bag on one arm, with the handle up to the bend of his arm, and grabbed hold of Bruce again.  He took a deep breath and they took off.

===

Bruce had not really noticed it before, though he had known of its existence. Flying this fast normally should have killed him, but flying this fast in Superman’s arms meant that there was quite literally a  _bubble_  preventing that. He could see it in the contrails whirling about them. Normally this only happened because of angles of attack and Bernoulli’s Law, among other physics  _things_. Between the fire and fighting for his life several times over, he really didn’t care. Not for at least an hour, he assumed.

Besides, Bruce began feeling a warm sensation all across his body, the signal that everything, absolutely every, was asking to go to sleep. This time, he didn’t even try to pretend.

And Bruce found it much easier to just turn his head into Clark’s chest than to hook his ear on the costume.

===

Clark felt Bruce fall asleep, could tell he was drifting off before he was even gone.  And before, when he had merely closed his eyes and Clark had thought that would be better, he was wrong.  This was better… so much better than anything.  He tightened his grip on Bruce just a little and continued on to Gotham.


End file.
